Making a Meal

Cherry

By queen beatle

Fri, 23 Oct 2020
  • 673 reads
4 comments
 

Coffee cup in tow,
The cold becomes you.
Cradled soft in hot hands,
You are my pigeon:
Cooing as I eat you
Chunk by feathery chunk,
Gnaw your rafters raw, and
Tie your ribs into knots
Like cherry stalks with my tongue.
The feet go last, succulent toe bones.
I snap you into bits as you, shrinking,
Sweep your curdled remains
Into the gutter and away.
I suck my fingers clean and
Sharpen my teeth anew.

Certificate 12
Poem
my poems
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by Nolan on

Horrrible. Sorry. You know what I mean. Makes me think of my mother's cat I pefer love poetry but that's not all there is to life now is it? There was a dove I call Daniel because he hid away in the cat sandbox I've got a photo.

Ok quite good Morwenna! Nolan &

 

 

Submitted by queen beatle on

Cats are so sweet, yet commit atrocities!

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Bone-crunchingly good.

Submitted by Tom Brown on

Good! Congratulations on the cherrries and for the previous two entries too! These cherries don't come easy believe me.

Stay well! Tom Brown