And now, for something different
Got a poem for you. I hope you like it. 👀
Hello, Substack friends! That was a weird one, last time we talked. Riots, being scared to go outside for the first time since the big Corona—what a doozy. But today I’m pleased to say we’re back to (kind of) normal.
I’ll keep it short and sweet: I’m trying to make more of an effort to share my writing online. Not just writing about my thoughts, tips, opinions, and so on—the more vulnerable stuff. Creative writing, fiction, poems. That sort of thing.
So without further ado, here’s something new—I hope you like it, and if you relate to it in any way, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Rations
She wants too much, he grumbles.
Too much time—like it’s rationed,
though she never took him for a miser.
Too much attention,
like his eyes have weight,
and looking at her drains him dry.
She asks for too much,
wants too many nights of talking,
of joy that aches in the cheeks,
of hands roaming over skin
not just to touch,
but to know.
She wants too much
to be seen,
needing to be savoured—
not as a shape, a body, a thing
but as flesh and need,
hunger and hope,
as something real
that breathes and feels.
Too much love, he says.
Like love’s some vintage wine
and she’s asking for the whole bottle.
Too much love—
can you imagine such a thing?
Like drowning in air,
or dying of laughter.
-KD