Bring back feasting cultures. Five hour meals with ebbs and flows, entertainment, drinks throughout. You don't get a plate with your portion, the offerings are just spread out along long tables for you to pick and choose as you like, until they are gone and the next course comes to replace it.
Those who don't eat much are not left with abandoned food in front of them, and those who want to really indulge can do so without any extra effort. They can just keep taking more, eating and talking, drinking and laughing, endlessly, endlessly, for hours.
Nobody notices or cares how much anybody eats. It is to share, for everyone. There is no scarcity, so you cannot take too much. Everyone is indulging: that's the whole point. We're celebrating with the best things life has to offer. Music, community, food, and drink.
And maybe you go all-out from the start, and have to excuse yourself to lie down for an hour before returning to the table. Or maybe you stay for hours, in your element, loving every second and every bite. Maybe you are so lost in the sounds and sights and feelings and tastes that you don't notice when your cup is refilled, or when someone else heaps food on your plate. You just partake and enjoy yourself.
And at the end of the evening, when you are drunk, a little dazed, happy and fulfilled but also surprisingly heavy, you let me take your arm--or maybe, you are leaning heavily on mine. We move slowly to our room, lost in a crowd, you following my lead as the world has turned hazy and dim.
Only once we're alone might you notice the way your stomach has been stretched beyond reason, your belly wide in a way that makes bending to take off your shoes impossible. The enormous meal is settling in a way that feels like you are still filling out, gut easing into a swollen orb. You place a hand on either side and lean back, stretching, groaning a little, trying to remember the last time you ate this much. Probably never. It feels like the most every single time.
I help you undress because you cannot reach much, but also because I love taking you apart, releasing your extra girth one buckle, button, and seam at a time. I can't help kissing your chest, your shoulder, your belly as I reveal flesh.
By the time I bring you to bed, you are ready to sleep forever, splayed out over the mattress. You drift into that space, not quite asleep, just feeling the soft sheets, the hot pit of your stomach, my cool hands under your belly. You are too far gone to think, but you follow my soft voice out of instinct. You lift your arms for me to slide pillows where I want them, you shift to the side to lay your gut in my lap, you swallow some water when it comes to your lips.
My words come to you from nowhere, like a dream. You are incredible, you drank more than anyone, you made us all laugh, you ate the dessert that I could not, you housed a whole roast, just like you said you would. And now look at you, you could not be more perfect. This gut, those muscles, these lips. You are everything, and so you will have everything.
Maybe you sleep and maybe you don't, but when you surface, sobered a little and hypnotized by my words and those sensations, I am still there. And when you are ready, an endless feast of another kind can begin.
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
germansingergirl
dededos
janainaart
titsay
vaporwave
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
