10.28.2008

Hungry

I sit in her apartment and wait.
Wait for her to come home so I can push my fingers into her supple skin,
penetrate smooth-glass surface, peel back each layer and wrap my fingers
around her pulsing liver.

I’d pull it out, take a small bite,
feel its warm rubber texture around my teeth as they tear into it,
tongue the piece of liver to the back of my mouth,
slowly mash it with molars, then let it melt down my throat.

Her blood is black viscous seeping between fingers still clutched around her,
I squeeze until pieces of liver ooze through the gaps and fall
like dark raindrops onto her naked chest.

When I open my hand little bits of liver stick to my skin.
I plunge back into the warm void of her abdomen
up to my wrist, my elbow and I know she can feel me searching
for that spot, that one spot where her pancreas used to be
before I took that too.

1 comment:

Flannery Shay-Nemirow said...

ummm, well.

pretty. pretty gruesome.