An Acquired Taste
Sweet sweets, the marrow and feets. This lusting for organs, sinew, and meats. Lovely is this vibration of death echoing along my taste buds. Warm, pungent breath. Like a holocaust nightmare filling my lungs with blood. I’ve that slow motion gaze. Trapped in a moment on repeat. It’s flavor. It’s a dream. The dull click of bone shards meeting my teeth, and the pop of my jar meshing together in one single romantic duet. Lament for decay, consumption. Everything devours everything and we’re all lost in oblivion. Beyond the mouth of madness, down the hatch onto our final movement. Stomach lining of the abyss is where we’ll meet at last.
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