A hunger not refined through absence but abundance
We shawled ourselves with it gorged accordingly
Waiting mouths open Lips as pink as dragonfruit rims
While they plucked cherries from their stems
And plopped them in.
You could always hold more in your mouth than I could
And could de-rind an orange in a single flourish
And gnashed more meat from the pomegranate.
But I can mop the stopcap wine From your neck
Marbled, shot through with blue Like bad fruit.
Trap the sap between our lips.
Let me be the rind between your teeth, honey.
Don’t spit out the pips.
Pulpy words crushed against my palate like raspberries.
In these woods which are not exactly foxless
Briar berries grow on vines, reddening, emboldening
Whilst twilights tumble over dawns. How?
But now I’m not a question — I’m an exclamation:
I only want to be sweet for you
And leave you sticky with me.
You marvelous tyrant
Glossy-headed you
Hunger, I
Mossy-bodied
Gnashing teeth and mashing
Thigh against thigh half-drunk at the sight
Of your skin, as pale as pear-innards.
Before the pith and pulp of me spoils with need
Leaves me mealy and congealed at your feet
Turn to me as vines turn toward sunlight
and feast.
