I ravage watermelons and mangoes with messy, reckless abandon
and dream of dragonfruit and mangosteens.
I pursue sport and competition as if they were lifeblood
or the nectar of the gods.
I devour novels and poetry as more than mere subsistence
but as if they were the goal of all gluttony.
Robust red wine and seasoned meats and smoked cheeses
are no match for my appetite.
And I run...
I run as if my feet know nothing but constant motion
and without which they fail and wither and abandon me
just as I step out the door.
No comments:
Post a Comment