Abundance

I like the feeling

of eating too much

like an ancient king;

Pretty young women

at each my sides

vines with fruit bearing

to fill.

Sadness is a thing to drown in:

a bottomless pool

and I am anointed

then smeared with balms

and smoothed with quilting.

Comforts must be overwhelming.

So hold me tight and tighter still

thick comforts, enough to choke on 

enough

to kill