Gut this need from my heart
the way you would pluck
the stone from a plum.
Feast on my desire,
for I am tired with longing.
This ache: an inedible seed
heavy on my tongue.
Hunger leaves a rotten spot
deep within my core, a darkness
that readily spreads.
Yet a mere smile
upon your juice-stained lips
sets me to blooming
all over again.
