Things That Bang

It’s a crazy kind of a love. I want to eat you, with you. Celebrate your flesh with you, piece by piece. Die along with you- watch you die as you eat what lives within. Insanity reigns supreme. Our love lives on forever in me, burning and coursing through my veins. In your dying breath I dream of endless eternity- the memories of us sitting together eating the last supper of the ending season. You smile weakly; blood, the color of ripe tomatoes, spills from your cup. Your blood and my thirst mingle in divine copulation. Time stands still as you bow your head and tell me you aren’t all there, bits of you are missing.
I smile and tell you – they are our bits and pieces like the love floating in the air. You sigh and tell me- you are dying and it isn’t cool to die on the first date. I smile and offer you dinner . I serve you the main entrée Penis in Massaman curry. Thai – you say as you taste and gently lay your head down on the table and die.
Another supper finished alone. I pick the newspaper next to me and circle the ad – wanted a partner to enjoy the flesh of Christ with.

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