Addressed to "you," the poem describes a hunger for affection so greedy that it turns destructive. The language is all eating: affection is something to be devoured, ravished, torn to shreds in one sitting. Yet the craving never feeds anyone. Instead it burns the throat, and the burning changes the speaker's voice until it becomes unrecognisable. Talking and talking, the person seems to hope that words might put out the fire, but they only feed it.
The last line delivers the sting. The person who craves so fiercely wouldn't even recognise affection if it arrived on a silver platter, polished and offered. The title, "dinner of ash," fits this: what they consume is already burnt, empty of nourishment.
The mood is raw, restless and painful, with a bitter edge of self-awareness. The repeated opening line makes the craving feel like a loop that can't be escaped. The poem seems to suggest that wanting love this desperately can make a person unable to receive it.