In shadows deep where flavors used to dwell,
A longing lingers, like a whispered spell.
The golden warmth of comfort lost to time,
Each memory dances, bittersweet and soft.
The tender crunch, a heart once whole,
Replaced by echoes that leave their mark.
I dream of spices swirling in the air,
Yet, find instead a void that weighs vast.
Then, a familiar smell—
Katsu Curry
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