Hungry
After being hungry for so long,
One doesn't miss any particular type of food anymore.
No more caring for bright, tangy berries,
No remembering the totally surrounding smell,
Of grilled meat in late evenings,
Not even the heavily crusted French bread,
Or the dry bite of red wine.
It's only you I crave,
Tasteless like color,
My closed eyes try to remember, but it's not there.
Jan/Feb 2011
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