Lips as flowers blossoming,
Slabs of wet liver.
Gasps from channeled chasms,
Methane mingled air.
You bend.
You open.
They pay the price for admission.
You are holes.
This was your tunnel out.
It was your pull on the slot machine.
And now they teach you what you taste like.
Among crumbs and lost pennies
Between couch cushions
Lost humanity lies.