this store full of packages and people
is the emptiest thing i’ve ever seen
white stuffing bursting at the seams
hunchback heartache in every gluttonous scene

i want to ask,
are you full?
as i, and my hollow shadow
stand in line
gripping our own empty full cart.

where there once was a steady beat
is a parched quarry,
thirsty and wishing
within as without
for the blood of love to return.