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this noodle here
it speaks to me
it says,
dear taste sense
adore me completely
and before I have
a chance
to completely dissect
what I know of it
or even pause
it swirls me with
pleasure hooked
by the lip of delicious
never meant to last
inevitably crashing
into hunger
where do I end
and where
does the sweeping
in the sense begin?
working faculties
sight smell taste touch hearing
make love to the thoughts
in a singular event
masticated and swallowed
fornicated lunch
food for the doors
of perception
is not the focus
nor is the experience itself
it’s the experiencing
with the part that knows
that never ends
and always wants to own
what is sees in front
of these hands
what is the thing
I reach for
the self I cling to
satisfy continually
this coffee is warm
and enveloping
like a mother’s arms
around my alone
fingers too numb to feel
so I reach out
to touch this body
on my skin
deliciously rich with
its own sins
full with history
interesting and different
from my own
I rest against a heartbeat
not my own
and dream of what it would
be like to open up
to every experience
outside of me
without fear
indifferent to difference
it’s what keeps it spicy
wisdom emerges from
excess bent and conquered
in cycles of desire
wants repel and attract
inner struggles like complex
self-imposed neuroses
a lunar madness
of tides from abundance
to lean states
but here I remain
disenchanted with the changing
if the only way out
is through then
I want you
and I want me
and I want nothing
at all
as it seems
all parts of being
co-exist simultaneously
resting on opinions
stories made up
about what is happening
right now in the present
but really
it’s an epic quantum chaos
of wanting states
clashing and prioritizing
who gets the gravy
and who gets to serve
it starts with how I treat
this little bit inside me
wanting always
with passionate longing