The poem
More and more frequently the edges of me dissolve and I become a wish to assimilate the world, including you, if possible through the skin like a cool plant's tricks with oxygen and live by a harmless green burning.
I would not consume you or ever finish, you would still be there surrounding me, complete as the air.
Unfortunately I don't have leaves. Instead I have eyes and teeth and other non-green things which rule out osmosis.
So be careful, I mean it, I give you fair warning:
This kind of hunger draws everything into its own space; nor can we talk it all over, have a calm rational discussion.
There is no reason for this, only a starved dog's logic about bones.