Love Me Less Hungrily

You arrive empty-handed, but somehow leave carrying pieces of me.

My time in your pockets.
My attention hanging from your teeth.
My energy thinned by your thirst.

You feed on presence the way starving things do desperate, endless.

You ask for one minute and swallow hours.

Ask if I'm okay only so I'll keep speaking,
only so you can drink from the sound of being needed.

You take in quiet ways.
Not with violence.
That would've been easier to hate.

You take through your crises,
through the way every conversation bends back to you,
like even my sunlight belongs to your orbit.

You consume me carefully,
slow enough that I almost mistake it for affection.

But I know what you are

A mouth with no bottom.
A hunger disguised as a person.
No matter how much I give,
you leave asking for another bite.