The border between
Lust and passion,
Between hunger and appetite
Was revealed to me
By the prosaic Mr. Jones
Who, after a dry and somehow
Ancient kiss,
Traced the line
For the Central Time Zone
With a fingertip.

While grateful for the lesson,
I lost a little skin
Off my nose
Learning.

But no lesson about
Lust or hunger
Comes without the
Ignition of flesh
And I know, now,
The costumes they wear
When pretending to be nobler.

Trick or treat.