Hunger summons us
for chewing is the way
of the night flesh.
Worms speak without words, yet
their mouths are ever open.
No one sleeps the long dark.
When we eat your memories
our skin warms beneath
a false sun. We recall how
we were. Like you,
we always want
to look back.
for chewing is the way
of the night flesh.
Worms speak without words, yet
their mouths are ever open.
No one sleeps the long dark.
When we eat your memories
our skin warms beneath
a false sun. We recall how
we were. Like you,
we always want
to look back.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
