Cheddar fire and
wood smoke lull the senses into luxury.
Barbecued hours are sweet and tangy.
Laying here your silence is meaty,
your want moist.
The house is but a beautiful carcass
you bought from a taxidermist,
covered in cherry blood and the sweat of chocolate.
Everything is warm –
the flavors, the evening,
you when you ask the question
I am designed not to hear.
The grill is breaking his fast.
Do you really need your shirt?
Miniature Moon 