no, i can’t take another bite but you know i need it you stick your arm out i grab apprehensively —like this time is somehow different— your arm rotated away from the crater i already made from the last meal i know it’s a ravenous hunger that drives me but it’s your delectable scent— earwax a sickening sweet glaze, pores pressing warm — inviting that draws me to sink my teeth in i’m sick i plead, i’m repulsive you don’t disagree, you know better instead you bring me close, wipe the blood off my mouth, and cradle me– the only intimacy i’m allowed that doesn’t break you, doesn’t make you wince in pain as pieces of your flesh rip from the bone while i pretend to not need it so intimately i cry into your ‘okay’ arm it’s rotten work, being with me for anyone else, yes. it hurts to hear you let me break pieces of you but not to me. not if it’s you. in any world, if i could run from my inherent revulsion you’d drag me back in i’d let you eat me bones and all if you needed in any world, it seems like i would still find pieces of you in my mouth