I’m swallowing dumplings,
full of unspoken words,
which persistently roast my throat
while they’re slipping, waiting for you to look at me as prey.
The urge in me and the stomach-turning tells me
to vomit all the secrets on the table before you,
for you to eat all the rest of me.
You will love everything I can’t tell you,
You will laugh at my obsolete thoughts
in which only you are always constant news.
You will fall in love with my taste,
you will fall in love with yourself.
You will welcome the way my emotions are crunching
when you sink your teeth that are starting to crack
because of their firmness.
The emotions that you have to tear and chew
while your teeth grow numb.
But don’t give up.
Chew up the last piece of my love for you,
and then gnaw my bones as if they never kept you from falling.
The dedication I have for you pour with wine
and spit me out at the end.
Otherwise, believe me,
you will not be able to digest me.
That amount of nihilism will cause you nausea.
You’ll have bitterness left on your tongue
whenever you mention me.