Feast your eyes, mortal mine

By Lucy Rumble

Come to dinner, love: I’m to be supped tonight.

Come by candlelight with arms of damask linen,

To drape over my subtle skin and ravish me when

Your rituals are done, and your tongues are wet

With raptured breath of prayer for my divination.

Come quick, love, for I hold your fate in my palms.

Mortal man knows not what I decree but basks in the

Light of what I am. Sink your teeth into my doughy

Flesh and swallow down my milky breasts, for this

Ritual love shan’t be complete ‘til I am come undone.

Lucy Rumble is an emerging writer from Essex. Her poem 'My Nan, Remembered' won third place in the 2023 Tap Into Poetry contest, and her work is currently upcoming in Crow & Cross Keys, Schlock! Webzine, and Curio Cabinet Magazine, among others. Find her on Instagram @lucyrumble.writes or at https://lucy.smlr.uk/