Cannibal Eyes

Ravenously ocular.

They say beauty is in the eye,
so, eat the I that beholds you;
canines and molars sink
into marrow and bone,
crushed powder, blood rust,
mashed to crimson pulp so savory,
bathing an obsessive tongue
that wriggles in starved need
for an awed, and curious audience;
Behold flesh, gargled, and swallowed--
Ahhh…
Nothing speaks like murdercide, and
bodies entangled in question:

Are you food, or are you sex?

Reviews

[Leo]

'Interesting beginning of 'remove the I' then it the flow of the rest of your poem.
blessings