I always forget how dried beans swell.
They start as tiny stones in my hand
but after an overnight salt water soak
they fill my red bowl to overflowing.
This week I revise them into posole --
it's meant to include hominy, but
in these pandemic times we all learn
to make do. I curl my tongue around
ancho and pasilla, remembering the music
of your lushly-swirled double ll's.
Raisiny peppers soften and come apart.
I want to blend into a chord like that.