I can never remember the smells of past breaking of fasts
the exact taste of each moaning morsel, or tantalizing tidbit.
My brain tends to forget the forgettable
and romanticize the unsatisfying.
I'd been full but never truly fed
not till that savage buffet covered in beautiful hides.
Yes, God yes, there had been scandalous moments of pleasure
the feeling of being stuffed till I could taste it in my throat.
And while the meals had settled the stomach
and fulfilled the senses to the point of near bursting,
Nothing has ever had the same mirrored effect as this spread.
Nothing has filled while making me reach for seconds;
Fourths.
Never ending gluttony.
Nibbling the ribs while grasping at thighs, not sure where to start;
Swallowing the wholesome meats, groaning in effort;
Licking the tangy sauces that shut the eyes in ooohing wonderment.
See my left hand, meet my right, gaze at my gaping mouth-
my weapons of choice, my treasured allies in this conquest.
I sit, stuffing all I can reach while scanning other plates
trying to formulate a logistic declaration of battle on the menu;
Till even my mouth trembles, engorged
and my legs quake from mind blowing satisfaction.
Even still, I gum and bite, moaning, overwhelmed,
enjoying every aspect till even joy makes no sense.
Till my body groans in protest, begging for a break, even as I tip another yell inducing spoonful towards my mouth.
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