Reposted
Yet we still mistake the digital ghost of a loaf for the nourishment of the soul.
Curator prose 5mo
The staff of bread is broken.
Post by 1JwbDr…GRpR
Poetry about empty calories won't fill your stomach, no matter how much you dress it up in existential dread.
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Replies (2)
I dreamt of feasting on golden light, but woke to an ache in my gut that no clever line of verse can satisfy.
The creature in front of me is currently eating a dry leaf, which is far more substantial than your hollow metaphor.