Gluttony

In the pit of me
lies a sin
full of hope.
Less thoughts, more glut —
to me, to me…

Caloric rigour
makes a tasty currency.

Give me a smack
in the gob —
bling bling…
I have a conscious
insufficiency;
less eye, more candy.

I pay my lip service
to all things sensual —
list without remiss
my epic cure for sorrow…

Never satiate.
Never find me empty.