My heart is hungry now,
by Elliott Rosenberg
Fervent for a kiss of rabid flesh,
Euphoric for a Eucharist meal,
Needy of yesterdays innocence where goodbyes meant hello,
And children king of their sandcastle.
My soul is starved as well,
Loneliness shadows me,
Years of selfless courtship
mangled in a baron chamber,
A landfill of broken promises, infidelities and lies.
How can I satiate such feelings
When I question the suns desire to set?
When I rebuke its birth each morning,
Desperate to become a star.
Today shall be dissonant with resistance,
For I will hearken admiration from a grey cloud,
Who holds its head up above virgin brumes,
To signal a change of disbelief and pave a road of hailing roses.
This garden shall be our oasis,
A bed of budding thorns that tickle pain away,
A canopy of seasons ensconced to beauty and free will,
Rooted in a dystopian paradise,
This is my hunger.