Consume by Sarah Gay

Read by Conner Arnold

I know what a Heineken bottle feels like.
Its edges are smooth, its waistline tapers
Into the bosom of the curved lip,
Blossom, foamy trickle back down the hips.
Hold it down by the waist
And swallow.

But this bottle felt different.
As if it were fresh from the forge,
Glowing wicked white as its
Lip traced down my bosom,
Blossoming pain as the foamy trickle
Curved around my waist and
Found my wounds.

I thought I knew him, but he felt different.
His eyes were kind but the edges were wrong.
His complexion was a foamy white
As his lips quivered, then curved
Blood trickling from one place to another
As he curled his hands around my waist
And pushed.

I know what a Heineken bottle feels like.
Its edges are smooth, its waistline tapers
Into the scarlet Hell of wide hips,
Blossoming pain, tearing into a trickle,
Hold it down, screaming,
And swallow.