The Feast

The invitation in

a swirling cursive script

tied with a ribbon

red

arrives requesting my presence at the sweeping

stretching estate

When I come he takes

my gloved hand

white

a finger on my wrist

pulse racing

regret and hunger folded into

his gaze

I am led through a maze

of candelabra and stale cigarette

smoke and his smile flickers

lingers then withers

dies

“Shall we my dear?” he whispers pulling back a chair

in a room dark as a grave with a table

polished like a casket and

I wouldn’t mind bleeding here dying

here staying forever

here

Dinner is a bloody slab of meat he

severs and slices

blade scraping fork as he brings the carcass

to his lips

gnaws it off, face in a sneer

whatever is, whatever was

disappears

His mouth at my ear, jaw

throat

can’t think can’t speak he

steals thoughts and words like

a thief and I’m lapping the spilled wine

from the table like a cat

cleaning herself in the street

Chew me up swallow me

whole

kiss my red wine lips

hard

you are

an animal