The pull before you give it a name. What the body has been wanting while you negotiated with it.

Hunger

Late spring opens an appetite. This week we name what we want, without polishing it, without apologizing, and notice what we have been calling by other names.

Each face in the street is a slice of bread
wandering on
searching

somewhere in the light the true hunger
appears to be passing them by
they clutch

have they forgotten the pale caves
they dreamed of hiding in
their own caves
full of the waiting of their footprints
hung with the hollow marks of their groping
full of their sleep and their hiding

have they forgotten the ragged tunnels
they dreamed of following in out of the light
to hear step after step

the heart of bread
to be sustained by its dark breath
and emerge

to find themselves alone
before a wheat field
raising its radiance to the moon

Bread

Each face in the street is a slice of bread
wandering on
searching

Write a permission slip for one appetite.

It's not greedy to want more.
More for yourself, more for one another
It's not about betraying
A sister or brother.

Home will still be there
When my cup is full
The trimmings of this place
Are tasteless and dull

I need to move on
Find something new
Try a new delicacy
Why wouldn't you?

Stay stuck if you like,
Eat those same ready meals
I'll send you a picture
To tickle your feels

So it's time to move on
To act on this feeling
I'm off on my way
Something...sweet and appealing