A Hunger (a poem for the passion starved)

(written in Aug 2017)

I carried this empty, wandering sensation that crept its way from the space between my fingers

Slid across my right shoulder

Flip flopped itself teasing me where hair strands sync into nerve endings that crave

attention

This void remained open and seeking for fulfillment, as it slid like a snake down my back and squeezed it’s frustration onto my hips.

Each sensation reminding me of … something.

Something I swear I remember, from some past time,

or was I only dreaming?

It hesitated between my thighs, stretched itself to simultaneously tease my third eye and the space that longs to be filled and understood equally

This empty sensation is not a physical being, but an unnamed source of …

longing

It cannot be filled with generic alternatives, no half-off discounted purchases, no unprepared and unknowing person can deliver

but sometimes

in moments of starvation we consume the item like leftover pizza.