When I Feed the Voice of Love

When I Feed the Voice of Love

Today I ate some chicken which went from my plate
to my belly with some avocado and carrots. For this
I am so proud and my god, when did it get to the point

that one square meal was a thing to celebrate. Sure,
it’s always a thing worthy of some cheer but it seems
of note that recently I’ve taken myself on this trip

to the land of starvation. If I were a boat, I could say
indeed, I’m punctured and it’s been by my own hand,
my own choice to deny my body the fuel it needs

to function, to thrive. This denial is my reason,
the writing on the wall for why I’m elated to see myself
bring food to my mouth, admittedly with a shaky hand,

a hand that follows the instructions of my mind,
a mind that today has chosen to feed the voice of love,
the echoes that rise in the passages of my heart.

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