Carnivorous

I take the stage.

There is a hunger in me

a redjawed ache.

If they slit me open now

all they will find is ash.

I bay like birds expanding.

Eating hurts

but the good pain — like the cold gasp

of ocean over lungs,

a mouthful of salt

or the memory of one who you love

who you hate

who you love.

I rend plum-mouthed, reddening.

My audience squeals

like the cut of a knife

a brief slash of noise

(they do not trust my

transformation

but then, who trusts a beast with the face

of a girl?)

And then:

I devour.

My teeth flicker into aubergine

burst into warmth

and then it is

over.

After: tea

tallow soft and tender,

for the digestion.

A dressing room pause until

it is time to perform again.