Filthy Tissues

I
sift through a crowd of all my world...

On some other side,
or perhaps in some clearing,
I find my guts wrapped in plastic bags,
fluids mopped up in tissue,
and I have no choice but to
eat them, in front of
a thousand hysterical eyes...
some faces screwed up in disgust or pity,
some vomit up reminders of their own humanity
at the sight of my bouquet feastitude.

I swallow the last of my innards
and feel strong.

I look at each of the faces in the surrounding mob,
and soak in their embarrassment,
their anger,
their bewilderment, amusement, and disdain

and breathe back to them all my love...
not even forgiveness, for there is no wrong
they have committed,
no crime in them that I have witnessed.

I leave behind empty bags and filthy tissues
and it seems
some of the crowd
are eager
to have themselves a taste.