Hunger, as Salvation
Ariel K. Moniz
This moment, sun speckled and innocent— I speak of prophecies, i plant seeds of affection in your perfect, peachy ears, and it means that I am thinking of tomorrow. I await their blooming like all great pleasures, though i do not know in what season they may come or what balm of tenderness they may carry to me as you lay your head upon the pillow beside mine. I hope for lavender to calm me and bring the bees, those little archangels of better days and July nights, or rosemary, to remind me what it is to desire you, like a meal hours off but simmering, a promise that spills out the late afternoon windows. This moment here, sun drenched and priceless soothes like sitting down to the dinner table filled with the sun-bronzed faces of dear ones, or the first bite of that long labored meal. I want the lingering afternoon hours of waiting. I want to feel the hunger rumble in my stomach thick and as alive as August storms, if it is for you. I want to pine for the taste, that savory relief and I want it every day of this wandering life. I want to know you, long summer day gelato-fingered savior, who I long for. I want to know you, and I want to know in my sunshine bones that the craving is just as blissful as the full belly.
More from Ariel K. Moniz ↓
@kiss.of.the.seventh.star on Instagram
Her chapbook, Nostos Algos, is published with Ethel, a Micro Press.
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