a lonely man
ate beetle soup
every day
crunching on the legs,
the pieces sticking
in between teeth
and he kept on rubbing
the heart till it bled
there at the dinner table
–
staring into a cold reflection
of a shiny empty
exoskeleton
a lonely man
ate beetle soup
every day
crunching on the legs,
the pieces sticking
in between teeth
and he kept on rubbing
the heart till it bled
there at the dinner table
–
staring into a cold reflection
of a shiny empty
exoskeleton