you & your small eyes
that peak & glance & glimmer
most, in the moment when
I undress & let you feast upon

the things that sleep inside.

you come & go leaving behind
marks & traces of a fiery
consumption: always satisified but
consistently craving more

in my hand, you feed upon the
meager scraps of the last
two decades’ harvest & you
swallow the crumbs whole…

as if you were tasting for the first time
as if you were going to eat to your full.

always most eager, your tongue,
searches mine & the body of many others
saveuring the reciprocal break-fast
& satisfying your appetite for the sacred

*with petite pieces of the profane