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To Matthew Lee Bain's previous piece

When I'm moribund –
     feast on my
          garnet, candied heart.
Pull off my
     ghostface;
          wear it as your own.
Decorate my lips
     with chloroform kisses
          and the darting
               of a choking tongue.

When I'm in extremis –
     suck the marrow
          from my fragile
               straw bones;
Floss your fangs
     with the vestiges
          of my tendons.
Filch my organs
     for meat pastries;
Throw my husk
     to the gods' breath.

Last but not least –
     pop my spirit placenta
          and gorge on the
               fetal delights of my
               screaming, amorphis soul.

All this
     for you…
          with only
               one condition:
Preserve but a
     morsel of me
          in the annals of
               morbid curiosity…

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