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Cannibal Horizon

I don’t want to eat you.
It isn’t because I don’t think you would taste good.
I don’t know how you would taste. I haven’t tried.
I don’t want to try you for taste.

I don’t want to eat you because I would miss you.
What does it do to a person to be eaten?

I don’t want to eat you, but I am hungry.
Am I hungry enough to eat human flesh?
I don’t know.
I haven’t tried it.
But if I do turn out to be hungry enough to eat a person,
Would I eat someone I know?
Would you eat someone you knew?
Would you eat someone I knew?
I would rather eat myself.

Last night, I burned my finger baking cookies.
After dousing the burn with water, I sucked on the hurt.
I could feel it cooking.
How much cooking would it take for it to taste like chicken? Like pork?
I have been thinking
Since I started working out,
Since I started working with meat again
That the leaner muscles I can feel in my legs
Around the knob of my knees
Look tasty.
I don’t know why I would think that.
I am not that hungry yet.
But as I look at the new bulges in my arms
(is that what a man’s arm is supposed to look like?)
As I marvel at the diminishing flab,
I can’t help but wonder, if only as a wordsmith,
If only as a spinner of yarns,
What would it take?

I don’t want to eat you.
I have heard mixed reviews about the long pork’s taste.
I have heard that vegetarians taste better
And if you were vegan, you wouldn’t be you.
But can I say that I wouldn’t eat you
If the circumstances were just so?
If the circumstances were different,
Can I say that I would feed myself to you?

It is easy to say here, now, in front of everyone,
I would rather eat myself
But I have never been that hungry.

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About Polypsyches

I write, regardless of medium or genre, but mostly I manage a complex combined Science-Fiction/Fantasy Universe--in other words, I'm building Geek Heaven. With some other stuff on the side. View all posts by Polypsyches

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