feminine, life, Love, poetry, woman

Hungry

I swayed and soared

in the clatter of pots

and pans, as the

sultry aromas of spices

aroused in me some

hidden desires.

Though I am the

cook and the Gardner,

such is my plight

that I am not offered

even a single bite.

Knowing there is no

respite, I scrapped the

waste morsels off

the site, you wished

a mild good night then

closed your eyes as

as I lay hungry on

your wild side with a

slight martyred pride.

19 thoughts on “Hungry”

    1. Thanks a lot G, coming from
      a such a talent poet like you means a lot. Truly appreciate it.

  1. Wow T! This is captivating and awestriking. My jaw dropped on reading that flamboyant end. You certainly have a way around words my friend. You just do.

    1. Aww thanks for your kind words, you really made me happy. Thanks for your reflections. Regards.

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