When we met, I couldn’t eat
and when we’ve met again, I’d hide
my skinnied body under coats
hoping you’d overlook my dearth

The emptier I got, the more I said
to others, the more my fingers whispered
psalms or songs of trust while lain in bed
my brain scrambled like eggs which I ignored.

Now with you gone, I fill my own mind
with ping-pong conversations, fill the lack
with fluffy pancakes, syrup, morning biscuits
fill the eve with Thai food and my friends,
all while my form rejects this strange nutrition;
to not be empty drives it to sedition.