L.C.L

Slowly drain the cherry red blood.

Drink the putrid fluid from the flood.

On that day, my soul is broken.

On that day, your ribs are tokens.

My teeth softly sink into your arm.

Gritty nails only inflict harm.

So smooth, so decayed.

Precious, tangy tongues await to be swayed.

I stop for taste delicious screams.

You’re the excrement that creates my cream.

Now, take the remaining drops.

Covered with my skin, as you are my crop.

We feel with glazed hands.

Witness the flesh of our newfound land.