rain diet

it's the waiting.
the days of empty-eggs.
porches that widen
into altars.
stomach, like a cave,
growing its own teeth
in anticipation.
i find my deepest pleasures
& torments
when i let someone else control
my breathing. i wear
a diving suit. enter
the blood stream of a god.
feel my lover pinch
the oxeygen line shut.
last time i really feasted 
it was summer. all the boys 
were made of bubble gum.
i bore holes in every spoon
with my hunger. 
through those openings flew
blueberries & grains of rice.
i forgot how to eat anything else
so long ago that
i don't know how 
to open my mouth for that kind
of eating. instead, i ask 
for gray's flock. a bucket cradled 
like a leg of lamb. water will come.
this i know from repetition.
how a body can become 
withered enough to regret waiting
then, the release. breathing so deep
the moons hear it. yes, yes 
please more. my own little lake
arriving to my heart. painted turtles 
& drowned famine. my reflection
in a pool. drenched & ready
to for another vigil. 

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