We sought the beating heart of the primal city prying
behind doors, nondescript on Bathurst Street
down Beaches alleyways and unassuming
Danforth patios velvet
places blurry and indistinct
that presented cardstock menus
that read like poetry thoughtfully
and sparsely populated by words we did not know
but came to love, learning a new language and rolling
around their taste in our mouths
fine wine sippers of words.