Wrought & Found

Original poems & found images

By Mia Sara

The Belly Knows

The belly knows it needs to be fed,
but the tongue plays favorites.

We linger on taste, opening wide,
exposing our teeth, confiding

secrets from the eyes, about size,
and the catalogue of parts lost

or stolen. So in love with desire
and the ways to feed it, biting

off more, and swallowing whole
families of thought.

I was starving as usual, when he
rolled in, smelling like buttered toast

after a long illness. Some part of me
stopped seeking, began to savor

the salt of struggle, the sweetness of
my just dessert, accepting the hunger

of the world, made flesh.