For as long as I can remember,
the women of my family have lived
in hunger like hulking tigers in a cramped cage.
Love is quickly used up, its quality fading
from golden light into grainy shadows
flicked haphazardly across God’s great canvas.
After Love departs, nothing remains but
the splinters where we have torn away limbs
and dug holes in search of that light again,
the flecks of gold streaked through our hair,
the ones that know better than revisit our homes.
When we give up, we sit in our drab backyards
to watch the sun sink over a police state
masquerading as the ultimate state of grace.
We tuck our freedoms into bed, kiss our sacred rights
goodnight in case we never get the chance
to lead by the hand into the light of day,
and sneak back down to the kitchen for one last snack,
maybe two. Maybe more, maybe our mouths
wait in secret to transform into one bottomless pit
as we reach with every breath we take for something
we have always known and long since learned
we’ll never be able to grasp in our earthly fingers.

i don't think you understand
just how hungry i am for you
my lips water
at the very thought
of your skin against mine
all teeth and claws
and hands in my hair
eyes alive with starvation
fork and knife ready
begging you
to let me eat you whole.

Take your Seven Deadly Sins,
And butcher them with punctuation.

Capitalize on floods, famines and fires.

Express sickness, war and homelessness.

Parse politics.

Syllabicate and spell out for all to read
The horror of homelessness and apathy.

There.
Nothing's too real we can't fictionalize... marginalize,
Again, and again, and again.

Let us fall,
Fall into a satin-sheeted bed,
As our passions push us into an intertwine,

As each touch waivers away our ornaments,
That are nothing but a bother,
So that our skins may kiss,

Let my lips caress upon you,
And caress I shall,
Till the roses of desire that blossom on your cheeks,
Grows and spread to all points intimate,
As the garnered juices of intimacy between your thighs,
Waterfalls down your legs,

Shall our hearts pound as hard as the bed rattles,
As we feast upon our lusts, as if there were no more morrows.

You weren't the butterflies in my stomach —no, you were the ache
in my chest.
You were the lust in my eyes and the longing in my bones.
And there's nothing I can do to shake the stinging feeling of
wasps one my skin, in the places you should be.

You were the definition of
             Satisfaction.
You were the    blood
                                  in my veins, and
the smoke     in my lungs.  
I was addicted to you in the worst of ways.
It was you who could quench the eternal thirst at my lips. And it was you who could satisfy the ravenous hunger in my bones.
You were everything I needed all at once. And You gave me everything I ever wanted.
A love that
                  consumed  
                             me.

The pile of wood chips stack like the
Tower of babel from this concrete plane
The furnace hungers, ever patient for
******* blood
dripping cuts
Ripped up cufflinks that share the table
Every **** night.
Before attempted sleepless dreams keep this distance bearable by proxy.
I see your face when I wake up.
I see your face when I sleep.
I pray the days spin down quickly till I can see your face in person.
Until then I'll feed this furnace.

Do others feel like this every time?
As if it’s something of actual substance,
A real reason to yearn,
A real reason to hunger,
As if for another form of sustenance.
Do others feel like this with a passing glance?
As if you’ve known them from the start,
A true sense of familiarity,
A true sense of belonging,
As if they’ve always weighed on your heart.
Do others feel like this every time?

I never had.