Salt And Sugar

The fast over,

he supped on honey
and hard bread,

the sweetness colliding
with the blood from his gums
where the sharp crust
had cut him,

and he smiled
redly,

the full moon in his mouth
losing its grandeur to his wet eyes.

This is the happiness
I have missed, and it hurts
like swords, like a song stretched
to the limits of my voice,

he thought,

as he let old pain
fall from him
in long streams of silver
to the icy soil
of the winter garden
where he knelt. 

But oh,
how I love to sing
in the moonlight,
naked, even if
the moonlight and the winter
are within me,
at least I am no longer
hungry, and
this salt and sugar

are all I need.