Respect
I wished to
see speak smell
of sweet yellowed gold honey
and tempered pouched ambrosia
like you.
To sit at your table
eat your feast
and become you
with your
bountiful meal you created.
I filled my gullet
perged my soul
and looked to the mirror
after my stool
I saw me- cried.
I ate again
sweet nectar
even drank it from your lips
I consumed you-
and found you to be mortal.
Still was I
and you be you
and you sat from me
the other side
I'll keep the distance- but close the gap.
-Matthew Koutzun
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