I am a cannibal.
I savor men’s fine taste
and snap up scrawny skulls;
Spent bodies left to waste.
But do not hoard your children.
Their flesh is far too sweet,
Innocently tendered and
Often curdling in the heat.
Age is my marinade,
It greases flesh like wine
Soaked and smoked in scarlet
With broken, twisted spines
And I am not alone.
Though they may feel otherwise
Since though I eat your body
The heart’s their only prize.
Do you hear me weeping,
Creeping during the night?
Sigh deep when I am sleeping
But you’re always in their sight.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 4:40 PM UTC
I am a cannibal.
I savor men’s fine taste
and snap up scrawny skulls;
Spent bodies left to waste.
But do not hoard your children.
Their flesh is far too sweet,
Innocently tendered and
Often curdling in the heat.
Age is my marinade,
It greases flesh like wine
Soaked and smoked in scarlet
With broken, twisted spines
And I am not alone.
Though they may feel otherwise
Since though I eat your body
The heart’s their only prize.
Do you hear me weeping,
Creeping during the night?
Sigh deep when I am sleeping
But you’re always in their sight.