I plucked you a flower when,
the moon called me outside, obscenely early and scintillatingly late.
Whispering and bragging of its brightness.
I open my mouth, but not to speak.
He takes the cue and puts his to mine.
Licking my tongue.
My hair bursts into a corona of scarlet flames,
standing on end.
Leave me here howling, until fully feral and begging;
then take and take more by making me wait and wait more.
Then eat. Anthropophagus.
The world is on fire around us.
So, let us burn here and now.