I’m craving food I’ve never really tasted.

I’ve been starved of it, so much so that I can’t even imagine what it tastes like

Well, I very well can.

In fact- it’s all that I can do.

I can only suckle on my tongue and swallow my spit

Can only dream and daydream and wonder

Can only talk to myself

Can only find it in myself

Can only want it if I can’t really have it.

I’m craving food that I may never taste.

Because it may not exist,

It may be a starving woman’s feverish attempt at tasting love.

And alone in this desert

I’d rather salivate over this mirage

Than venture out to find

The feast waiting for me.