Hunger

Something in you
feeds me
like the rose a grub.

Something in you feeds me
like bread
cast on waters.

How to survive
the ancients?
How to sing new language?

Something in you feeds
me like the breast a child
yet milks me dry
and leaves
an insatiable hunger.

Something in you feeds me
so that only body
pressed to body
I feel full.

Copyright by Carolyn Zonailo: www.carolynzonailo.com, 2004