we ate brunch

we exchanged arms and legs
for morsels of tired joy
distributed by a dying savior
and his feed pouch
that threatened but never achieved the vacancy it desired or deserved

our fear of its impossible emptiness
propelled our forget
and our lust for unfeeling captivity

happily pulverizing bone and joint
for insect comfort
in a cast crafted by highway billboards
and white teeth and coiffed hair
and creations erected
solely for penetration

though our hunger was perpetual
we found reprieve
in his momentary glances
even if his eyes were too black
to discern acknowledgement
we could feel
his desire
for gift
and harvest

we cherished the current
of the feed river
because we saw misery
in its motion
and happiness
in our inability

the scabs
on our flesh
from the metal
were the trophies received
for what we had done