another 2 poem, same topic (cannibalism)

(I've always like the concept of poetry to express feelings, this topic in particular is very beautiful to write about so don't judge :P)

(this took a while, hence the reason it's shared :D)

Devour Me Gently

I peel you open with shaking hands, 

your words beneath my nails,

your breath still soft in the pulp of my 

mouth.

Love, I am ravenous--

not for your touch,

but for what writhes beneath your ribs.

Look at me like you want to be known.

So I learn you.

Carve syllables from your spine,

drink the vowels hidden beneath your teeth.

You never flinched

when I pressed my lips to your throat

just to taste the silence.

Each night, I deseed the fruit of you,

sweet red wetness under moonlight.

Your laughter stains my fingers--

I suck it off,

slow and prayerful,

as if holiness could be swallowed.

Do you know what it means

to want someone inside you

so badly

you break the skin?

I've kissed you with knives.

I've whispered I love you

through a mouthful of marrow.

You said, Take all of me.

So I did.

And now you live in the hollow of my bones, humming like a wound

that will never stop healing wrong.

(I've posted this next one before, but it was posted to my bulletin, so it's LONG gone. Thank goodness I saved it... This one's my personal favorite.)

Through Our Bodies

I want you under my tongue--

not in metaphor,

but marrow-deep.

Split you like scripture,

read your ribs aloud

with teeth that tremble

from reverence, not hunger.

I do not bite to kill.

I bite to remember.

Through our bodies.

Through mine.

Each sinew a syllable

in the sentence you never spoke.

Peel your skin back, slow--

not to wound,

but to know

what color you bleed

when you whisper my name.

Is it red like pomegranate,

or the bruised wine of grief?

You smiled

and I saw your throat move--

God, I wanted to reach inside

and feel your voice

before it left you.

Call it grotesque,

but love has always been a kind of feast.

The heart is not sacred.

It is meat.

And I would cook you low

in the quiet hours

until your shame turned sweet.

Darling,

what is closeness

if not consumption?

To chew the soft cartilage

of your fears,

to swallow your laughter

and taste the memory

as it screams down my throat.

I will not let you leave

as a person.

No--

you will live in my blood.

You will pulse in my wrists.

I will digest your love slowly,

over decades.

And when I finally speak again,

the voice you hear

will be yours.

From inside me.

(tysm for reading :D)