questionable consumption

I once met a woman

So proud of her own flesh, she fed it to her lover

Never mind the slices of skin missing, bloody fingers

He deserves all of me – she offered

As if the red could forgive a thirst like his


I wonder if I will ever feed a hunger so raw,

I'm willing to bare my bones.

Will I ever find a lover so in love with my soul, he devours

It whole and consumes me?