In a small, shared apartment, two worlds collide
She is from Saigon, and he has Northeast pride
She brings her pho, with herbs and spice
He shares choco-cupcakes, frosted nice.

“Hi,” she says with an accent, face weary
“Morning,” he mumbles, hair bleary
She sips milk coffee; he takes a cold brew beans, both tasty
Morning rituals—clumsy.

She washes zip locks, saves plastic bags
He stacks up Amazon boxes, never one to brag
She teaches him the rice cooker’s way
He shows her the dishwasher’s play.

In that kitchen, magic grows
East meets West in flavors flew
A companionship blossoms around the dishes
Two cultures, one counter—shared appetites.

• Initial: August 30, 2024