He reaches out and places his arm around her back, holds her shoulder. Whispering sweet some-things into her ear, she smiles, giggles, laughs. His lips brush her forehead in a kiss doubled over. Her face reveals the security she feels within his arms; soft smiles – a sort of peace.
My belly rumbles in hunger.
Sitting together, they make great effort to test each other's warmth. Arm kissing arm, leg brushing leg, they long to feel. Her fingers reach to point, he grabs them, holds on. Fingering the edge of her palm until she slowly open her hand and lets him in. In caution, fingers gently grace each other - not wanting to set off any unneeded emotions in such a public place. In understanding, her head leans onto his shoulder. In satisfaction, his head leans over her head.
Peace. Peace. Peace.
My belly rumbles in hunger.
So I sit.
And I watch...
them being them, them loving them, me feeling them…wanting them to be me.
No, not completely understanding what it is I see but needing to be in that mix.
My lips flip
upwards in a smile for them. Wondering when I'll find myself comfortably positioned between the lap of a man so sweetly kissing my cheek, wrapping his arms around me. Me loving him, he loving me...
This belly rumbles in hunger.
So I sit.
And I watch
patiently
Spaghetti. He feeds her. She feeds him. Giggle. Giggle. Giggle. You hear that? Yes. You hear that. Small talk. They make small talk that un-doubt-ably will force beautiful imprints on her mind – and they'll last forever. She'll lay in bed one evening far from now and think of this irrelevant moment. Through her heartache, through her pain, through her hate and confusion, she'll close her eyes…and smile.
You remember
This belly rumbles in hunger.
Eyes watch them. Eyes analyze. Eyes try to make it work, try to make it match, try to understand. Eyes watch. What they have…the potency of it - whatever it may be - makes them careless and unaware of the world around them, of the eyes that surround them. No. It's just them. See. It's just them. Their world – who else belongs? No one.
They won't let me in – and I just want a taste. Be it bitter or sweet…just a taste.
So I watch, and
My belly rumbles in hunger.
You hear it, don't you.
You hear it.
Cause my belly…this belly…it's yours too.
Our belly.
Mmmm.
Yes, it rumbles in hunger.
By: Dorlette Pierre-Louis
My belly rumbles in hunger.
Sitting together, they make great effort to test each other's warmth. Arm kissing arm, leg brushing leg, they long to feel. Her fingers reach to point, he grabs them, holds on. Fingering the edge of her palm until she slowly open her hand and lets him in. In caution, fingers gently grace each other - not wanting to set off any unneeded emotions in such a public place. In understanding, her head leans onto his shoulder. In satisfaction, his head leans over her head.
Peace. Peace. Peace.
My belly rumbles in hunger.
So I sit.
And I watch...
them being them, them loving them, me feeling them…wanting them to be me.
No, not completely understanding what it is I see but needing to be in that mix.
My lips flip
upwards in a smile for them. Wondering when I'll find myself comfortably positioned between the lap of a man so sweetly kissing my cheek, wrapping his arms around me. Me loving him, he loving me...
This belly rumbles in hunger.
So I sit.
And I watch
patiently
Spaghetti. He feeds her. She feeds him. Giggle. Giggle. Giggle. You hear that? Yes. You hear that. Small talk. They make small talk that un-doubt-ably will force beautiful imprints on her mind – and they'll last forever. She'll lay in bed one evening far from now and think of this irrelevant moment. Through her heartache, through her pain, through her hate and confusion, she'll close her eyes…and smile.
You remember
This belly rumbles in hunger.
Eyes watch them. Eyes analyze. Eyes try to make it work, try to make it match, try to understand. Eyes watch. What they have…the potency of it - whatever it may be - makes them careless and unaware of the world around them, of the eyes that surround them. No. It's just them. See. It's just them. Their world – who else belongs? No one.
They won't let me in – and I just want a taste. Be it bitter or sweet…just a taste.
So I watch, and
My belly rumbles in hunger.
You hear it, don't you.
You hear it.
Cause my belly…this belly…it's yours too.
Our belly.
Mmmm.
Yes, it rumbles in hunger.
By: Dorlette Pierre-Louis
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