They go on to love
Love the skin
That is not theirs.
Love the
Slumbering Curls
Of frail
Hair.
Splattered freckles across
Shoulders and chests.
The Market is grudgingly open.
Transactions take
Place without the
Clerk behind the register.
Reaching into the depths of the freezer
Returning with the
Morning ****.
They love
Merely because
They want to eat.