Hunger

I sit across Hunger. He is my weight, my
Other. He is my physical brim—the fuller
Set of world in flesh and skin. My brother.

We talk about existence, about
Pleasure and displeasure. Small talks
About the movies. I get it now. These pictures

On screen are all as real as him. They are
Visions to a dream. Taller than daffodils,
He sits meagre and thin.

Legs crossed double through obscurity.
I hold him closer. Cold. I extol him,
Spreading him thin like bedclothes. With his

Soft flap of skin under
His chin, I carve him like scream and 
Shroud myself with his corporeal cover. 

Tie a knot-sinew by the collar. I wear him
Dearly. Transfer my heat to his head now my head.
Tasting his lips now my lips. He is my sandal

Steps and finger gloves. I only have to extend
My mouth to wear his teeth and tongue. Swallow
Harder to live through his lungs. Air like fire

Merges the veins. My blood kin. My lover. 
Masticated zip-line—grin in the mirror—
I thank him before getting up.

Dale Chou
2013-01-04