"Hunger" by Eve Young

The wine
was delicious.
It absorbs
the sun
and prevents
sleep until
the end 
of the
agricultural season.
Those stones,
so deep
and fiery,
were not
secure. It
gives me
good news
to increase
my notes
and spring
breaks—there
is a
way to
death: prayer
born out
of love.
There were
horses in
the darkness
of the
night, with
heavy rain
on the
table where
they produce
the baskets,
the roots
are in
the apples,
and July
is the
new love.
You are
distracted, so
the spirit
cannot summon
you at
midnight hunger
when I
am still
hungry and
we are
eating together
and I
know that
hunger has
swallowed me
up.

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Eve Young is a writer from West Yorkshire. Her poetry has been published in the New Feathers Anthology and BRUISER, and longlisted for the AUB International Poetry Prize.