Fasting for a day or so:
at first the bite of hunger,
the urge,
the lack.
Then something more.
The beast curls up and sleeps
the less I feed it.
Beneath the ache,
the thrum of need,
a new vibration rises,
a freedom
from wanting and acquiring,
a peace,
a oneness
with your drawing-in,
a way that is a stillness,
closer to the darkness
at the core,
a way not of consuming
but of being.
Not hunger now,
but empty openness
to you.
Not my body now,
but yours,
our enormous joyful hunger
for each other.
—March 12, 2018