WE HEREBY CONDUCT THIS POST MORTEM:
The taste of your lips collapse to mine never felt as intimate as the dried blood that lingers in the tip of my tongue. I don’t know how to love you without teeth, I don’t know how can I hold the love you gave me without wanting to take a bite and swallow it until your heart is lodged at the bottom of my throat. I don’t know how to love you in a way that won’t obliterate you! Though even then, I would still be greedy; I am licking every leftover of your flesh on my fingers so I would carry the aftertaste of your soul to my grave. You can’t teach the dog how to not nip when the splintered bones sprayed around the floor looks so fresh, so bloody. The first poem in the world is when Adam and Eve screamed the next words with their teeth in the dirt: I WANT TO EAT.
The taste of your lips collapse to mine never felt as intimate as the dried blood that lingers in the tip of my tongue. I don’t know how to love you without teeth, I don’t know how can I hold the love you gave me without wanting to take a bite and swallow it until your heart is lodged at the bottom of my throat. I don’t know how to love you in a way that won’t obliterate you! Though even then, I would still be greedy; I am licking every leftover of your flesh on my fingers so I would carry the aftertaste of your soul to my grave. You can’t teach the dog how to not nip when the splintered bones sprayed around the floor looks so fresh, so bloody. The first poem in the world is when Adam and Eve screamed the next words with their teeth in the dirt: I WANT TO EAT.