like animal carcass.

I am splayed open, salted and tenderized.

My fatty bits sectioned off with bakers twine.

Red juices weep from my wounds.

Not blood, but the meat sweating

for better flavor.

A heavy palm comes down hard on my rump.

He lifts from the flank.

He samples the breast.

Hunger animates his body but he knows he must wait until the meat is ready.

He massages oils into the fibrous texture.

Working it in with the strong flat pads of his thumbs and fingers.

The meat is shivering.

The meat is shaking.

I’m told this is a chemical process.

Even once dead and removed from the body,

the meat dances on the table.

Due to the residual energy and nerve endings present in the tissue.

The flesh will twitch.

But it must be ready.

When it is ready he’ll carve it off in slabs,

and drop them into his mouth;

a mouse falling into the mouth of a snake

hanging by the tail.

He’ll glide the knife under the muscle

and it will slide down his throat

but it must be ready.

The meat is hanging but will not dry.

It drips

and drips

more juices.

The air is escaping.

The tendons are loosening.

He ties her off again and again.

Soon little lamb.

Soon.

i hate those "testing strangers to see if they're friendly and kind! kindness wins! kindness pays!" clickbait recordings where overwhelmingly it is young, attractive people (largely women) who are being scouted for views and free advertising . they're making you model for them and they reap the benefits. they profit now off of testing you while you fucking exist. i do not want to be fucking tested. i hate the commodification of "kindness" like dude just give random people the money, not because they fucking smiled for it. none of the people recording has any idea about the origin of the term "emotional labor" and none of us could get them to even think about it. i did not apply for this job! and you know what! i actually super am a nice person! i still don't want to be fucking recorded!