Irresistible

"Who trusts a mouth that does not abandon
itself/ to...ripeness?"
                          - Albert Abonado

Yes, too much salt 
billows in the blood.
Too much sugar hardens 
the kidneys into clappers. 
Too much fat hoists
sandbags to the rafters, 
from where they will drop 
one day soon on your feet. 
Too much bile burnishes 
the coins of each envy,
reddens the nets that swim 
in the backs of your eyes.
One day, one way 
or another, you 
will die.
But you can't starve 
the hunger planted 
beneath your navel,
the hunger squirming
under the white 
roof of your belly.
It digs its points 
into your flesh 
and wakes you up 
at night, dreaming 
of crackling pork rind
and blood stew, green 
bulbs of bitter melon 
glowing on vines
in the yard; soft
tongues lapping up
vinegar. You will slip 
out of bed and take
your sharpest knife, 
crush garlic cloves, 
pour oil into 
the heated pan.