first

the first I write
with an empty belly
gnawing with the most delicate care
at my innards
never too much, never too much
just enough to make me feel alive
and eventually cause me
to double over
and unfurl.

we double and unfurl
and nobody will know
if we unfurl renewed
or if, like ghastly shades
of our former selves
we'll shuffle back into line
and are gnawed again.

i would not wish that fate upon you.
my nose is full of water and salt
and the stillness of the night air
chokes
but i do not thirst
i will not thirst
and elsewhere i know
neither do you

at our very cores, we are slaked.