Organ Buffet / by Spirited Magazine

by Cassie Pinner

Dystopia VII

I long to split open your ribcage and rummage 

through your organs like grapes at the breakfast buffet.

Pushing your pink kidney around with my face. 

Your excavation; 

meat and potatoes on my dinner plate.

Famished, I become itchy with wait. Taking the longest, pointiest rib in hand, 

I would save your heart for last; 

my feast.

Slicing from the corner of your lips, through your cheek

cause I want to get a closer look at your rotten teeth.

Getting messy in your platelets. 

I need to be satiated.

I found your baby in a dumpster.

I knew because it had your hairy toes.

I cut off its sex organs,

setting each piece

on the sidewalk, lit up

by blinding sunlight.

I was full.

 Photography Tammy Lamoureux

Photography Tammy Lamoureux