IF HANNIBAL WROTE POETRY INSTEAD OF EATING PEOPLE

Hannibal

I love you
like a sleepless mother loves the embrace of an unmade bed,
like a troubled father loves the rush and the touch of his fist
against fresh, spotless skin,
like a cocaine addict loves the smooth surface of a table,
like an alcoholic loves to talk and talk and talk.
I wear you
like a band student wears black button-ups and medals,
like an anorexic wears wool in the midst of August,
like a dying woman wears her heart on her sleeve.

I need I need I need

you.

I crave you
like a cannibal craves closeness.
I hunger.
I eat your eyes for breakfast, your lips for lunch,
your intestines for dinner.
I swallow you whole and split my head open
to give birth to you.

I cry for you.
My heart bursts.
You take another bite of my chest and wash your teeth.

I repent for my sins.
I crawl on the floor in my depression after your trail.
You have made me miserable
and yours.
Fortune's fool.
I leave you behind
like a brother leaves for the military,
like a sister leaves for an unrequited lover,
like a cousin leaves for another country,
I leave without goodbye.