i have acquired a certain taste for flesh,
in which many egos i have stung.
but i would like to partake in your lips
so plush and mangle the base of your tongue.
so open your mouth, dear, even if to speak,
and i shall fantasize of character assassination.
i love the rosy face drained of it’s color,
or the sight of appendages post-mastication.
but remember the comfort and freedom you felt
as you passed me by?
it is now a constant fear of who lurks, as i’ve
gouged out both of your eyes.
