Sonnet XI

    I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

    Silent and starving, I proreets.

    Bread does not nouriss me, all day

    I  for teps.

    I hunger for your sleek laugh,

    your ,

    ones of your fingernails,

    I  to eat your skin like a whole almond.

    I  to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

    t face,

    I  to eat ting shade of your lashes,

    and I pace around ,

    ing for you, for your  ,

    like a puma in tratue.