Dinner With Cannibals

Mingling with stars of dull ashen cinders, I hide in plain sight with concave shoulders, combed with conviviality splashed with absurdity the laughs stab wounds, nobody sees, nobody dares, we drunk off the punch of convenient lies, we smile as if we sup on the flesh of phoenixes washed down with the very nectar of the gods, a wretched spectacle watched only by ourselves, a throng of cannibals, you dine on what’s mine, I eat your meat, at least we alike like morsels in the belly of a beast…

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