At the gray bottom
Sunk around by silk
And smoothed out over the oldest ebony
It lives in you.
Or the other way around.
This abiding interest in how that which is eaten is eaten
You like breathing? Then keep eating.
Love, Lust, God, End. Debatable points all.
Sitting at the head of a table pre and post fall
Where if this is where you sat
You would be primed to eat
All kinds of meat, sweet meat
And the gloom of days and nights that
Are exactly the same: brimming over with success
And expecting no less
It's creature comfort for creatures who comfort
And worry robes, shapes, shadows, clocks
And casino politics
That whisper: surrender. Surrender.
Because it feels good to do just this
A ring, a kiss
Just this