All You Can Eat

Self-restraint is a 24/7 unpaid management role

Not my intent nor destination

yet here I am

biting lips back from words

to say

“You taste delicious”

before mouth actually opens

sensory receptors detect stimulus

metaphors run rampant graces

annihilate accepted societal paces

with heightened acuity

An appetite for prophecy that no doubt

would unnerve the center of me

three years ago

but this is familiar

This smooth

This decadence

undoes me by domino-effect

Surely soon to undo you too

A buffet of known/unknown delicacies

with a clarity-lined path

where ravenous souls ache to feed

Fulfillment beckons for pleasure to be sated

ease embraced

joys made tangible

as that favorite meal

I want to devour

and savor again and again

Covered smiles

Stifled moans

Eyes through seeping steam

and undeniable peace made manifest

when no one cooked up a daggone thing

but the seasoning was perfection though

and I’m still licking my lips

Author's Note:

At this juncture, perhaps it's important to mention that I may have instinctively created a sub-genre called 'Disguised Poetry.' I do it all the time. I now see that in some instances of dark poetry, it has worried a few of my boon-coon Vocal peeps. Please don't worry.

This simply means that as an empath, I'm picking up thoughts, feelings, experiences etc., all the time. Some of those "sensories" are mine and many are not. I don't distinguish when writing and don't feel the need to in a public forum. It's essential for me as a bona fide Cancerian to keep my personal life out of the public domain. Hence, voila, Disguised Poetry.

This poem was written in response to a prompt on nourishment from The Honest Perspective on Medium.

Originally published at://The Honest Perspective - Medium.com