May 2005 / Volume Six / Issue Three
Mather Schneider
One Nibble On Your Wrist

One nibble on your wrist
would sustain me for days
and I could live for years
on just your hand,
uncurling the fist
to get at the kindness hidden there.
Your whole body
would last me forever,
but instead I've choked
on missing you,
swallowing the same complaint
a thousand times.
It's not set up for us to win.
God I miss the fruit inside the garland
and on your lips the residue of sin.
You are nature's perfect food,
my love, and I am
starving.
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