scraps of thought

No blood drawn. Just the sounds of your joints

Giving out as I gulp down your index finger.

No guilt and no regrets as I gnash on your remains

Breaking yesterday’s vows of veganism.

If I cannot own you as my own and

If life on earth is as fleeting as they say

I’ll grant this depravity to fuel 

My voracious deep-seated gluttony:

The innate genetic need to sustain this lineage-

A feeling more primal than all others

So let me lick your skin off of your bones.

Let me trail my tongue over your tendons.

Consent to your descent deep into the walls of my intestines.

Permit my purgatory stomach to digest you for as long as my body will allow.

Before I regurgitate you back into liberation

In the shape of pretty poetry and prose