My kingdom for a moment of your scroll. Today, I slop down the hollow bone—
Osso Buco, shank flour-dredged & tomato-sloshed with translucent onion curling
in gremolata profuse of garlic—& shuck free the tongue of fat by the grip of my spoon.
My wet lips slurp seas of butter. Did you hear the juice? Was it amplified enough for you?
Please salivate in the comments. You can’t be ugly when you have all the cake,
which I scarf for you now. I will be your pretty icing princess sticky with fame.
My sisters want castles & glass stilettoes & dainty pets. All I want is to feed you
the thoughtful clack of my incisors against metal prong. Here, press your fingers
to the screen & I will suck your globules clean. If you come back next week,
I will have spiced mutton threaded on skewers & brushed with a yogurt marinade.
It will gargle like a boot stuck in mud. The chore is finding beauty in silence.
Despite what Mother said, I never wanted a prince. My have my own palace
built on the Likes of my mouth which has always been beautiful, like this DM
I got just now: Drizella, you big, ugly mouse, you saint. please i love you don’t stop devour me.
Trista Edwards is the author of Spectral Evidence (April Gloaming Press, 2020). She practices hearthcraft at MARVEL + MOON (www.marvelandmoon.com) and you can read more of her poetry at www.tristaedwards.com. She lives in Denton, Texas with her husband, son, and their two pups.