I love Woman

I love woman, it is her work that I love,
Her hands always toiling, her mind
dwelling just above and to the left.
The fruit turn color and ripen,
even as they sway and dangle.

Can you see her bent over in her garden?
I adore woman, no weed is left unconquered,
and her children will surely rise up
out of the ground and call her blessed,
her fingers full of dirt and moist earth.

Delicious shadows, even without my eyes
I see her sliding and moving.
She is fluid, and I drink woman in.
I take up the goblet like a drunkard,
my fingers full of hair and skin and mystery.

Shall we pour out this time upon the ground?
Will I hear your words AND their meaning?
My roots and tendrils are exposed. Safe.
I love person, person is extravagant, complete
I am fascinated and married to her.

Snacking

Oh God, I despise my impatient lips!
I hate my gluttonous tongue!
I grow fat on fantasies,
On sweet morsels made of sugar and lard.
It is not even time for dinner
And yet I cannot bear another bite!
What when the meal is served?
When I no longer need to sneak sweets
Behind her back
As though I doubt she is preparing any meal at all?
When the meat is laid out in front of me,
The scent of its wafting steam storming my olfactory?
"No, thank you. I couldn't."
Teeth already rotted out.
Diabetes begging for a sweeter course.
I snack all day.
I fill my mouth to slake the pangs of boredom.
I munch.
Devour.
I shovel it in because I cannot bear patiently
The mystery growling through my guts.
With each grumble of my appetite's greed
I respond with spoon and fork,
With happy meals,
With processed, heat-lamped products
Smothered in cheap cheese
And plastic condiments.
Gritty and crunchy.
Charred edges.
Frozen centers.
I've lost my appetite
As I wait for the dinner bell to toll.