did I wait for
him to come love me? Lord!
I was starving! But hard as his
food to me. Why
I had to bite my way
to that poor blinded and bleeding
I was. Must have
smelled the blood. On some nights
between cold sheets and closed eyes I’d
ringlets, as if
his head already lay
on that pillow there waiting for
I’d feel that man’s
skin beneath my hands, his
curls sliding between my fingers.
his neck, his chest,
his belly. Trace and taste
sweet bites of ribs, of tender thigh,
meat. Must have cast
a mighty spell on him
gobbling him up like that in dreams.
on a Sunday.
The mountains moved closer.
I heard a whippoorwill at noon.
it was him and
there he stood. Said he was
eaten up by melancholy.
sorrow. Me on
his mind all the time. He
didn’t show his heart to any
I have married
meat and bread. As sure as
this banquet passes my lips, love
From WHAT TRAVELS WITH US: POEMS (LSU Press, 2005)
Used with permission of the author and LSU Press.