poem changed
Your lips glisten with crimson remnants of your last repast-
My essence marinated in what I thought I knew
I anticipated it more like Hansel and Gretal
Nevertheless, I can still hear the last smack of your mouth as you slurped up the sloppy remains of my puréed dreams
And, though a semblance of more than sufficient sustenance for the bellies of all your central voids, They still slammed down their forks, salivating and licking their lips, screaming “we need more”
And so, like the cherry perched upon the summit of your death-colored sundae,
You swallow whole my last lingering wish
My essence marinated in what I thought I knew
I anticipated it more like Hansel and Gretal
Nevertheless, I can still hear the last smack of your mouth as you slurped up the sloppy remains of my puréed dreams
And, though a semblance of more than sufficient sustenance for the bellies of all your central voids, They still slammed down their forks, salivating and licking their lips, screaming “we need more”
And so, like the cherry perched upon the summit of your death-colored sundae,
You swallow whole my last lingering wish