I bite the hand that feeds me,

Inflicting suffering through my teeth,

relishing the pain of a violent mouth,

wishing to devour you whole.

The figure of my true devotion,

my love and my light.

My sustenance and prey,

the body of my salvation.

Parasitic is my nature–

with stitched limbs that flutter ravenously,

Forever wishing to stroke your brow,

so far out of reach

despite the rippling desperation.

Days of dubious regret,

and rejection of instinct.

Shriveling of my loins

and aching of my life.

And a hunger within that yearns to escape.

Yet I beg for you not to see my hunger,

and never run away again.

Now that you’re within arm’s reach,

I need to guard you,

cradle you, and nurse you.

I'll sing you to sleep and feed you honey,

I'll dry your dripping hair and smell your clothing.

I'll walk you home when you drink too much,

And I will eat your father alive if you ask me to.

But nothing takes away the guilt

and the weight of sin.

The desire to break the adoration

by biting off your fingertips.

So, asphyxiate me with your rib cage,

and hold me as if you loathe me.

For I am insignificant in size,

but my hunger for you keeps me alive.

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Maia R. Becerra is a Montreal-based Mexican poet who explores themes related to the grotesque and nightmarish, as well as evoking dream-like settings through their work.