Fasting in FSM (Free Speech Movement Cafe)

written by a hungry, fasting girl.


You chew.
I watch.
"You want a piece," you say--
a mouth spraying crumbs
your teeth pestles ever so gently grinding
the food against the walls of your cheeks.

"No, thank you," I say--
all the while looking at your lips
gates of heaven opening and closing
to sour dough bread embracing
fiery cheddar cheese
ripe tomatoes
crunchy cucumbers
bread pieces soaked in heavy, red tomato soup

"All right," you say.
the redness of strawberries caught in the cracks of your teeth
and melted chocolate against your lips.

I think the glee held in my stomach,
escaped through my eyes
at the sight of your meal.
And as doors to my stomach's desires,
my lips uncontrollably smack,
yearning to recreate the sound yours do.