Ferry Street

I am talking to someone
through you as sound
gets emptied, the table
is full of small plates
I have half-eaten stories
left over under greens.

I wonder at those tired
eyes, what has been eaten
will be remembered
or not even worth the name
I was given one too and
have been called many
food, flavor                     this skin
myself given up for disorderly consumption.

Here is what it takes to live between the mouth
to take it in slowly
eat with gourmet kindness
tell the same story again and again
as if I am the best meal you’ve ever had.


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