The nature of yearning is inexplicably human. Animal even. An all consuming urge to digest the entirety of another body. The raw pressure to take and take and take. To gnaw my lips until the blood excites me enough to risk the second serving. I can’t explain why but you feel like god in those moments. When my face is buzzing and hot and just the suggestion of your validation of me is an apple I dare not bite. But I should? Should I? Do you want me to? I’m sick. I’m a sick animal and without need to recover. I’m an animal whose chest is caged in rationale but whose bones crackle and splinter from holding it in. Primitivity still exists in us. It’s just that it happens to exist in the bad ways. The shameful ones. The ones that we sit in pews to forget. But it feels so right for lust to visit when it’s not invited. Come in. Sit down. Consume. Digest. Enjoy me.