She is a good butcher

The knife steady in her hand,

Although she’s never quite gotten the knack

For hacking in one swing.

Tried once and hit bone – elicited screams.


Prefers instead to slice carefully

Weighs each cut of the knife

Watches the blood well up

Saliva pooling in response.


His pretty little ears she nibbles on

Followed by his lips she samples at every moment

Even his nose she presses kisses to.


There’s so little fat to him

Just how she likes.

When she gets too hungry to wait

Sinks her teeth into the definition of his pectoral

Rips away the muscle chewing gleefully.


He is a rich source of protein

Her body has been craving.

Finds what is so often boasted between the legs of men

no delicacy at all as some treat it.


Loves to lap at his iliac crests

Wear down to his bones and crack them between her teeth

**** the slick, nutritious marrow.


Finds a certain contentment

In the consuming focus

The preoccupation of her hands, mind, and mouth.