On consumption: “Eat me up” I don’t say it But it underlies The catch of a glance When we pass in an empty hallway The downward pitch in his tone When he isn’t allowed to speak the words The lingering fingertips When I pass him an FYI And I’m cooked Char broiled Seared to perfection Crisp edges, soft center I gather the data “How do you like your eggs?” And scramble myself in the pan Breakfast in…