the Appetite

Appetite is soul not stomach.

The first time I heard "you are what you eat" it was a mockery. It came from judgmental lips in a bad habit as a method to cause us kids to not eat sweet snacks from which the conveyor of the message voluntarily refrained. I remember, that second-grade year, thinking
...?...huh

I wasn't even oriented enough to go, "Ahh, so he's a Twinkie," or, "She's a cupcake?" I just thought that Sr. Carletta was strange, and I was a peanut butter cookie.

If hunger causes us to consume – take something in – in order to meet some need, can I say that I am hungry to create? Wouldn't that mean that I desire to consume some kind of giving away? But
Man does not live on bread alone, and
You've got to give it away to keep it.

Word needs flesh,
needs surface from which to rebound.
Otherwise it makes no sound and a soundless word isn't.

If we write to each other and we read each other's words in our heads – even in the silence of our innermost rooms – those words must approach, embrace, and sit with me in order to gain their being. Otherwise, they are instantly destroyed by the anti-matter of deafness, not having even tapped or patted my drums. They might be words as words are defined in a dead lexicon but they are not the human invention that defines their living purpose.

More than want, I need.
Not the desperation of "I'm about to waste away";
not the lust of "Baby I really gotta have it"; no,
but like flight needs fire or wing.
Not, stars-need-gravity, but brightness needs light.
So,

I need you to hear me saying, thus I need you to consume
My Words
both You and Me.
For me to take in my own meanings from the words that I produce;
for you to take them from me and to tell me if they sit.
No, not too much. We still have a long way to go.

We can rest so heartily that our spirits are arrested, badly. We have need to divert distraction, to take a break from resting. We are so incredibly busy doing nothing but being consumed, busy being eaten.

So, produce, too. I said too!