Issue #54


Authors

Fig

Content Warning: Mention of blood

1.

You trace my body                                                                                                      

Run fingers down the spine

Holding each piece

Like parts of a fig

Purple and veined in your lip

our bodies do not bend the same way

Mine tipped back at the spine

I am nowhere 

But you still hold my body, so,

Delicately as to not bruise the fig 


2. 

Your hand across my throat

Like the legs of a spider

You wrap me in your iridescent coat

wrap me as you would a fly   

Until all that is left is my figure etched in web

Silver against the dark and purple sky

starved eyes trace my body

Yearning for the veined and purple meat

The kind I hide under piles of velvet crimson sheets

soft as the blue ribbons of my wrists 

You dig your fingers into the fig and I hiss


3.  

You do not wish to marvel 

Neither stay nor speak

Only unravel, the strands of the fig

The soapy guts of the fruit

You eat until your full

Then yell, give me another fruit!

You Chew the tuff skin

And grin a purple toothed grin 

Juice drips down your chin 

A sticky bloody sweet

Stuffed boy on the sheets 

Serving Suggestions

Arguments For/Against Vegetarianism