Star/va/tion

The art of craving something you will never be fed.

 

Only a fool is blind to the difference between love and lust. I don’t think you ever loved me, I just satisfied your cravings.

See, I don’t want to just be your midnight snack or guilty pleasure. I want to be each meal; breakfast, lunch and dinner. I want to be the meal you planned on having last week, not the occasional surprise desire your sweet tooth requires. I am not an all-you-can-eat buffet, you can’t self-serve whenever you please. I want to be the meal you spend time preparing for, a delicacy. The red cloth, set table, candle lit dinner for two. The fire lighting up the room, smooth blues making me swoon. Your arms wrapped around my fragile body as we dance like no one’s watching; Our bodies soon becoming one on the floor, I want to be that meal. The meal you taste for days, the one that you adore. The one that leaves you love struck, begging for more. I want to be your favorite meal, the meal you can eat countless times that will never bore your tongue. Maybe I’m naive for hoping but the night is still young.  

When we sat down for dinner, I satisfied your cravings. Though you never turned an eye to mine. Maybe I am a fool for thinking if I gave you my body, our hearts would once again entwine. Of course, you left the table with more than you could handle, I wanted to make sure you were full. I left with an empty stomach and a bit of a heartache. I was swallowing the unsettling realization that you’d never be mine, I would never again be yours. That was a bit too big of a spoonful.  

You say you don’t feel sparks anymore but I know they were there that night. I guess that was only because I let you slip off my dress, your eyes never lit up so bright.  

They say only a fool doesn’t know the difference between love and lust. Maybe he loved me, maybe he didn’t. I don’t think I’ll ever know. No use in trying to feed him my leftovers now. They’re not what he wants; they’ve grown cold.