Love Is A Diet For Gluttens Poem by robert seminara

I've never hungered like this before.
The word, Euphamisticly cynical, and accurate all at once.

To hunger, the way darkness hungers for darkness, and the ego a stage.
And how nothing living lives forever; they hunger forever all the same.

I see a panting shrieval, clinging to life with clawed, white-knuckled hooks.
A desperate understanding by the hopeless and nearly dead.
Widely known by the addicted, and to all first-time lovers.

I have this hunger as my guide.
I have it as my god.
I have it without relent.

There is no satisfaction at supper.
Only an uptick in torments productivity.
She serves no closing course, and nothing to
wash it down.

Its a sweet, candy-coated razorblade, swallowed by the charming, and
listless alike.
Your hunger will claim you as its own, the way we feast on our own, sated by the effort,
but never satisfied in full.

There were nights when I had my fill
She is a generous lover.
Such delicious impossible dreams.
Lies.

She tasted of spice and mystery.
Of blood, and wonderful youth
The aftertaste is need and neglect.

This hunger will never let you go.