The Fruit of An Invisible Tree
often have i
starved for stars
as i have seen them
hang delicious
as nocturnal nounlings.
famished
how you gleam
in taste desired
upon the thin mouth
of my inward eyes.
nebulas are sweet
in counting
within the chamber of the throat.
how often when
the bread was thin
and butter non-existent
in days of empty childhood
space of smooth tables
washed of the suggestions of crumbs.
i looked out the frosted
cold windows
of my simple habitation.
Infinities how you fill up
oh stars…
how you minister to my secret hunger
plump like fruit on the transparent limbs
of the infinite invisible tree
of the cosmos.
unfed knowledge is
its own rich pudding
as my stomach growls
as a kitten in teacup .. .
Copyright © Andrew Rymill | Year Posted 2012
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