My heart is
a hungry beast
beating,
and growling
for something,
needing feeding
of primal desires.

It is white shredded bits
of paper
preparing
for the taring
and sharing
of ash
as it burns fast,
consumed
by the embers
that rise
to fires in the eyes
of those
we long to touch.

When I awake
and quake
the tremors
of ecstasy
seeing my sweet fantasy
coming to life
the beast’s
urgency
slowly recedes
and I am free
to be
a rational me.

Until,
the hunger returns
for the next in line
of eternal
sequels.