Did your thumbs pierce crescent moons in the skin of my heart as you squeezed it, and could you see straight through to the other side?
Did the flesh rot where it stuck beneath your fingernails?
How long did it take for you to notice?
Did the blood run slow when you bit in for the first time?
Or was there enough to drink all at once?
Did the skin peel back as easily as you thought it would, or did break in some places?
Did that make you angry?
You loved me mutilated, so I plucked my eyes out and swallowed them while you watched.
I felt you get hard.
Tell me the sexiest parts of my disfiguration,
But remember to speak softly.