"In an affluent society
cannibalism
is a sexual predilection"

This is not fresh meat. It was kept overnight
in a tab of brine. Hand remembers
the ribs' wet parting, the heavy pulse on the palm.
this is not the door to the engine room
though a pulse whines in the walls.
Green velvet ropes enlace a green
velvet chaise-longue, beneath
the purple jewels of the parvence
empress. Meet me tonight under your tongue.

Your cock whispers
inside my thigh that there is language
without memory. Your fingers plan
wet symphonies in my garrulous secret
places.