Natural Hunger

Even to a beholder's
eye,
the sensationalized
sticky serum
of desire
and the
slippery
wax coating
on lust
aren't visible.
The blind
do not
have less
yearnings
to be
completely
saturated
by
mutual accompaniment.

To know
even the slightest
morsel
of love
is to abandon
the salivating
sounds
of another's
voice.
Tender is
quiet.
Even those,
who cannot hear,
find themselves
acknowledging
the sizzle and pop
of their hearts
as they cook
over a warm
reception.

Fires blaze,
but the heat
of these
burning bodies
do not begin
to sear
the surface,
melding together
the succulent
meats
of two lovers.
The joint
of these two flavors
consummates
somewhere
within the
bodies'
chemical stores.
The measurements
and ingredients
are guarded
secrets.

Silence
wafts the scents
of communication
from
muted mouths.
The mind knows
what
the tongue
won't produce-
taste
still transmits
the spices
of complimentary
beings.

Together,
though
the nerves
don't know.
A mind,
however,
cannot withhold
from itself
the fuzz
of a peach
or the nectar
that flows
when
a bite
is taken
from pleasure.

Comfort exists
when all senses fail,
as long
as minds
don't abandon
their innate
recipes.