The stairs are steep that challenge me
to climb the highest peak
and stand upon the pinnacle
a woman loving you.
I’m not at the bottom nor at the top
but stuck at the half-way stage
where the table is set with crumbs and snippets
sent from the ether to land.
And as I imbibe new reality checks
my hunger increases then dips
because the whole package
refuses to land in my lap.
When hunger dips down it’s okay to frown
and cry like the abandoned
and cutting the hunger to suit the times
makes of crumbs a nourishing meal.
Still and all, we always need more
to fill up the will to climb
and who can survive on a crumb
when the appetite wants only love?