Like the roasted body of an animal, you and I, we consumed each delicate bite. We picked off all the meaty morsels, and chewed them over. We revisited the flavors of the passion we shared. I picked, you picked, we both chewed on the fat, fed ourselves on the meat.
The carcass is left, the flavor is still in my mouth, and sadly darling, there is no more to eat.
I still want to chew off your shoulder. I want to give you my arms and my calves.
The fading sets in even further, but I remember fondly . . .
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