the taste of foreknowledge

No not the blanched wholes
   not my vastness diminished
No
          crime of voice
          here             no
   supple somethings wishing for hinge
   hardened brows willing violet/soothed

“I fear knowledge of my hunger” – Jean Toomer

And the taste of foreknowledge that
Sickles my

Being carved out of a leeched necessity
I fear the

knowledge of east as it is only
Blood that

Greets and blood that steeps my
Hunger