Keep edge on those incisors with the flap of your tongue,
the fresh meals coming.
You're a carnivore, loose from your pack;
red stained matte,
calves hydraulic, jute high
on the hunt.
Regrets an herbivore, grazing the lichen (dried up) on our backs.
Twisted drift wood horns wrap jaws and you’re low
but she's privy and monsters blink.
I don’t need to tell you, but I do,
“drag limbs, hide your smoke, let it convulse” cause,
I’m a carnivore, sucking you thin
lips pricked on talons, claws recede.
My sick need to injure as much as be hurt.
Instinct.
Dig paws through my jugular,
press reverse.
Am I a cannibal, shucking my skin
Letting you masticate the edges of my cardioid.
We’re a carnivore, joined at the hip;
Rushing with envy muscles creep through our joints and tighten our lungs.
We see omnivores carrying kin.
But were heavy with flesh from the dying
and too late dive in.
No comments:
Post a Comment