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.