LIKE WANT FOR HAVING
Sometimes it is the yellow-spotted bananas
on my refrigerator that make me think of you—
not for your touch or for the chocolate, but because
of the time you went to work and left me at your place,
said that if I got hungry,
I could have anything I wanted.
I thought if you had bananas,
I would crump dance in your kitchen.
but, no, you did not have bananas, so I ate your peanuts and drank your last bottle of water, thought about how you said
I could have anything.
I wondered if hunger is why women get married,
not for the bananas,
but for the company and for the having anything.
I wonder now, if hunger is why men send me strange messages about how they want to spit in my throat,
or call me baby or sweetheart and ask me
to say what I want
to do with their dicks and my tongue—
I have only wanted to eat you
and ripe bananas, and sometimes only want
you and I dancing in your living room,
taking shots of red bull and 1800
like you have no idea
I conjured you.