Abyss { or : The Banquet}
The abyss Always so inviting. I see a little man over there. Shall I push him? I can sense their presence I did not call them. But they are here. In possession. I do feel hungry.
Qué hambre.
I want to devour this branch. If I could just lick the wounds of this landscape.
Green honey Black salt The leaves are bleeding sugar The stones are leaking milk
What a feast. I sense their presence I did not call. Them. Them. Here. Possessive. I’ll keep a stone in my pocket. If need be, I know I can bite. Oh well. Here they are. [all my forest fears] I’m not wearing red, Mr Wolf Please, choose the other way. I am not ready, hairy ladies. Please, conjure me another day. Are they gone? Are they me? I’ll suck the stone. I’ll drink the leaves. I’ll crunch the salt. I’ll gorge on honey. I’ll push, the man And watch him fall.
What a feast.