February 17, 2012

poem 48 of a poem a day for 2012


hunger

she said 
I only want
a bite
a little nibble 
perhaps,a chew
to the light

she said 
I can have everything
that isn't nailed down
if I was willing
to let it all go
at first to burst
and then flow
past what I thought
I could know
to be pleasure 
in surrender

she said  
do I understand 
anything 
about bleeding
that it is 
what we were 
meant to do

we are each 
a squeezebox model 
of the breathable universe
sometimes we know this 
when we're dying 
or least withering 
on the vine
waiting to ripen

and it is in 
these moments 
that we seek 
the orbital weave of gravity
the return
the burn
the beat
the hunger 
to eat each other
to fine ourselves to the bone
tooth and comb
what the tides 
swallow of unnecessary
so we could be fed
sated rested
and lying in
what our fingers
pulse home
what words spill
when we embrace 
through to the poem

EJR (c)

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