marriage without sex (sonnet)

Even if we write or speak or look we
are still hungry for love. We can't get no
satisfaction from books. We are hungry
all the time for love, for something we know
we will never find. Our satisfaction
is all gesture, our hunger physical.
Because we are starving we are brazen.
Because we are starving we are lustful.
Hunger cannot be tricked. There is no bridge.
Sad things must hide somewhere. Where is the bed
we will meet on? Who will feed us? Marriage
without sex. Sex without love. Ghost love, spread
out our quilt. Pour me wine. I am clueless.
Who will feed us? Tell me: who will feed us?