We are both vegetarians
but that never stops us
from eating each other’s heart.
Hers is served in a light vodka crème sauce,
mine arrives without garnish.
We have dined on each other so many times,
it is a quick and joyless meal.
Where once we tenderized and basted
we now eat it raw,
with little conversation,
not even a “pass the salt.”
We reach across the table in silence
grabbing whatever we need
as if the other has already gone.
I am tired of this bloody meal,
but I keep eating as long as she does.
The day we said, “I do,”
we never dreamt we’d be such carnivores.
—from Rattle #22, Winter 2004