TPC Review Issue 003

Jeanilyn Kwan

An Acquired Taste

A Chinese idiom claims that those who “eat
bitter” will taste sweetness later.    For years,

I took my coffee black on an empty stomach,
the sanctuary for all of my    butterflies

and Kafkaesque thinking. Every pang of
anxiety has nested within my gastric glands. But

the belly can do more than bloat. How often
can one be warned that her appendix is about

to explode? When inflammation
befriends a child, it brings a promise

of lifelong companionship. One’s closest ally
easily becoming the discomfort eroding her

sense of self
     and   stomach lining. I ate

black coffee     until it was no longer bitter
but boring. When we temporarily lose our senses

of taste, which one is first to return? The   sweetness
or the bitterness? Even those who find sweetness

will find ways to reduce it. For balance. I believed
in coffee on its own, without    sugar

coating or creamer. An acquired
taste turned sacred   ritual.    But   how

did I pick this up? Where   can I exchange it
for some milk, eggs, and compassion? Today I listen

to my stomach growl and still wonder what
my anger looks like. I know the script

to an irritable bowel by heart. It is like    a fable
that haunts me, where the moral of

the story is those             who are taught to suffer
only get good at suffering.

Jeanilyn Kwan is a Nigeria-born writer of Singaporean and Filipino heritage. Her work tends to meditate on the malleability of language, memory, and identity, drawing from a life across distinct urban landscapes: Lagos, Manila, Beijing, Dallas, and Singapore. Her recent and forthcoming writing can be found in Voice & Verse Poetry Magazine, 异典 Oddilogues, Pandan Weekly, and Atelier Arcadia’s What We Burn For anthology. She is currently pursuing postgraduate studies in psychology after over a decade of working as a copy editor.

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