The Great Feast

Soft, Succulent
It slid down the throat
Flavoured perfectly
Spices and herbs
Intermingling
The smell arose
Tantalising
Fresh, juicy
The fork cut through
Pink flesh
Roasted perfectly
The moans arose
As lips tasted
Sweet sweet skin
Manners forgotten
Gluttony, no sin
Spoons clattered
Empty vessels laid
To rest
Stomachs groaning
Desires still raged
Exotic feast
As it ended
She looked towards him
"What was it?
So fine, so rare
Food
A carnal longing
What beast stirred
Our desires so?"
Chucking, shrewd eyes
He gracefully blushed
"You flatter me
Madame
Pray, tell me
Why did he,
The flautist
Not attend?"


* An Ode to Hannibal Lecter