Feaster

You seem like someone. I say it’s time we feast.

Glutton feasts all come so far and few between.

It is tough, moving after, if you must overeat, if,

we must be consumed, if, we are what we feast.

Disordered, contradicted, we’ll trust in a doubt,

as all of it is euphemism, in dinner candle light,

wherein, you seem like someone I’d like to love.

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