Hungry {A Love Poem}
"for abiding love and making love that is playful, serious, and unashamed"
I am hungry.
Hungry in the way your mind inevitably will go to and for more –yes, hungry. Not just for warm sheets and fleeting excitement. But hungry for delicious masculinity, a man like a shade tree on a warm day, for abiding love and making love that is playful, serious, and unashamed. I wonder if this is plain to others.
I wonder about some of the men who arouse my friendship, if perhaps, in another life, I would know more of them. I hide this hunger from my eyes. But in the early hours of the morning, I dream of them. The men I’ll never let in, but who remind me of my hunger and why I should remain hungry rather than eat. I dream of their kisses, my head leaning on their shoulders, burrowing into their chests, the comfort of having just any-body.
When I wake up and remember it isn’t real, I am sad and relieved. There are some dreams so real that I walk past these men and blush.
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Ciao,
Anthea