A Craving

I think that’s how they call it.

You start off, a bubble in my stomach:

the smells

of hot air, new books, old movies and my

new body cream,- pamplemousse rhubarbe,

grapefruit and rhubarb, sharp like Quebec French.

And very impatient.


Like the Chips Ahoy!

cookies on my shelf, I know

exactly where you are. Against the wall? In

a plastic bag? 4cm from my toothbrush… Sitting with

your fudgy weight.


1.5G SAT FAT. 40mg SODIUM. 6g

SUGARS. SUGARS. I thought you were. But


before I can grab

a pen, you seem to turn into one. A ball pen,

clicks on my heart without stop without stop

without stop. Pumps my blood too quick.

A Mont Blanc, keeps knocking on

my head keeps knocking keeps knocking.


Thud thud thud thud.

I run towards my desk. But

like a needle through a thread,

you run

right through me.

Now I need to try

to grab you by your tail, because


are the poem I planned to write.


4 thoughts on “A Craving

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