what do you starve for?
an eclipse, nicotine, stale bread, prompts of pain, euphoria?
where do you sleep?
your twin bed, your lover's, face pressed into a novel, nowhere at all?
why do you cast?
for control, for beauty, for balance, for the taste of licorice and the essence of chamomile?
why are you a ghost in daytime?
do you fear the gaze of some mouse, that they may see you choke up a bone, smooth a feather?
do you drink red wine because you like it
or because it stains your lips and makes the things around you