A Tap on the Shoulder

Where did you come from?

That hunger in my gut, a space to be filled,

a tapping of the shoulder, a whisper in the ear. Until satisfied and caught.


To touch the tongue and kiss the mouth,

an enveloping restlessness

until eventually

gruntled.

A cut, a chop, a release, an unbinding, then deliverance.


A swipe of paint out the window.

Bruising sky knocks out the light.

A tree seems to drift in through the window,

the invading roots of the earth, soon

out of sight.

I think only of you and what to eat tonight?






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