the blessing

this hunger eats, hollowing
this opening in me, each
fleeting filling functions for
to deepen my desire.
i shut my eyes to keep it
out, supposing that both source
and satisfaction of this craving
dwell outside of me
and that if i could simply stop
gaping at this yearning, the gape
in me would gag and i would
bear this ache no more.
and yet each nibble that i take, each
entrée, dessert, hors d’oeuvre,
each buffet, banquet,                                                                                                                
feast that’s fed just serves                                                                                                                 this dogged desire
like springs in spring-
time fed
by underground re sources,
it rises to erode erroneous
illusions of intimacy
and carves in me this canyon where
the echo of my longing’s
exquisitely
excruciating
emptiness
is
heard
resounding from some Unknown
source, its timbre deepening,
to excavate again, this hallow,
will not be tapped
dry

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