Hunger in the candlelight


The hunger in the candlelight
a rush of breath
a breathing — tickling
circling like a satellite
crushing petals
fingerpainting slower still
as melting chocolate
drip onto our borrowed skins
pebbles of the little death
sipping drops of distillate
our hunger in the candlelight

By Momo

By Momo


What am I hungry for? In 60 words or less… yes this does make sense, and for real toads I took only 40 words. It’s hard to make Mama Zen blush, so I better have some margin.

January 23, 2015

28 responses to “Hunger in the candlelight

  1. Your description is all the more beautiful for its subtlety. There is much tenderness in the heat.

  2. Pingback: The Pitfalls of Trying to do it All – An Apology and 18 Thank-Yous | Being the Memoirs of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante·

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