Our Hungers, Appeased.

by: Emily Conner

Dealing with the hunger was the hardest part of all. After a few hours, or maybe it was longer, the burning from the sun subdued and the pain that twisted in my bones from the stillness went numb. The hunger though, seemed to last longer, seeping from my gut to my lungs, until it reached my head.

It stirred in my forebrain, making my fingers tighten against yours. My empty stomach was silent as my heart filled its place and began to slow. It must have been seven moons before that hunger finally won the battle, stopping both my lungs and heart simultaneously when it besieged me. As it took over me, I could hear your breathing starting to quell. It was the last sound that rang in my ears until the hunger caught my brainstem, sharply turned it off, and then started to appease.

When the hunger was gone and my heart had stopped, I relinquished myself into the grass and welcomed the peace. The silage clung to my skin and tried to hydrate it, to bring it back alive again, but my hollowed body had broken the seal completely.

In your sleep, which you embraced much easier than me, your eyes shined through the autumn leaves as the sun whispered its last goodbye. While the hunger took me and stopped my heart, I saw the morning release you into bright, swirling colors. You went still next to me, and you haven’t moved since. Not that I would even know.

Before we laid, I felt fuller than I ever had before; so full of love and laughter that all sorrow shattered out into the grass below us. It was exhilarating and benign, clinging onto me like hands reaching from Hell, and it only took me a moment to give in to the feeling - surrendering completely just as I did to my famine and then to the land.

But, as time would show, my hunger was nothing compared to the one of the insects that came shortly after. For mine was for desire, and theirs was for survival. Their teeth gnawed at my decaying flesh, gathering in hordes of families to feast on my completion. Sharp beetles joined with slimy larvae as they began the supper and it felt nice to be the reason why they all gathered together. Having a purpose in death, after being surrounded by so much loss in life, was enough to fulfill me once more.

When the seasons started to change, I knew then that we would be left forever. No one, unless purposely searching, would stumble upon our place in the forest. As the fall turned to winter, our flesh began to freeze and insects soon turned to buzzards that mistook us for rats. Our blood had since dissipated and the skin that once longed to be the thing that patched our wounds began to fall away. The hold of our hands became tighter, wrapped not only in love but the vines that grew from the Earth.

During spring and into the summer, as the years continue to go on, we will cease to feed the animals and give only to the land. We will become the flowers and the grass as they rise through our flesh, the remnants of our bodies giving bountiful nutrients for the soil. The land and animals will know our taste jointly, they will have the final say as we lay in our eternal embrace. After our bones are gone completely, once they are mended together just like we once wished for, the hunger will stop for all, and we will finally be home again.