The speaker isn’t a cinnamon peeler, but he imagines himself as one to convey his desire for the woman. The cinnamon represents his desire for the woman, and desire propels the poem. Desire isn’t fleeting but enduring, and the permanent mark of desire manifests as the cinnamon dust on the woman’s pillow that causes her body to “reek” (Line 5) of cinnamon. The smell follows her, as do the speaker’s fingers—the fingers he uses to peel cinnamon. People—“[t]he blind” (Line 8) and “strangers” (Line 17) recognize her through the scent. The speaker’s desire for the woman gives her an inescapable identity: She’s “the cinnamon’s peeler’s wife” (Line 18). His desire for the woman makes her his. There’s nothing she can do to get rid of it. She “might bathe / under rain gutters, monsoon” (Lines 10-11), but the desire sticks.

The permanent mark of desire puts the speaker in a bind. As he’s not married to the woman, it’s socially unacceptable for him to express his desire. The speaker tries to suppress the smell, but neither saffron, tar, nor honey covers it. The woman solves the problem by reciprocating his desire.