eating.
(written with D.J.)
I can feel it gliding down my throat with a huge push of water
like your body, sliding, up against my skin, warm and wet,
wet like the feeling and taste of your tongue intertwined with mine.
I feel it swirling down my throat, intoxicating me, head spinning
almost nauseated by the mere thought of the taste rather than
the actual sensation and I swallow the poison; let it cover me
from the inside out. There is no pain, just a feeling of regret,
what have I now lost with this one trigger I pulled? My life flashes,
and what I expect to be a monument of achievements is an abyss.
I realize there’s nothing left to fear, because there’s nothing to remember.
Copyright Janet Kuypers.
All rights reserved. No material
may be reprinted without express permission.
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