strangetreat

I bite.
And bind the flesh,
And crack the whip,
my red flowers blossom
on their skin,
I feast,
tender breasts,
roasted rumps,
juicy to bursting,
on my chin,
throat, fingers.
Soft bodies, yielded to me
with sweet words,
"I am yours."
We partake in the sacrament
"This is my body,
which is given up for you."
But archers line the battlements
of their well-defended hearts.
And mine is naked at the gate,
crying "Sanctuary."