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.

NET WT 11.75OZ. 80 CALORIES.

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

you

are the poem I planned to write.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “A Craving

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s