Matthew O’Rourke

Cannibal

i

The night the mob was shouting Cannibal!

and the fire glowed redder than the birds

whose calls sound like gunshots,

you held my eyes as if ashes buried and

skeletons nestled between branches

sat in curlicue within my blue

and could tell you

how to be

magnetic.

ii

In comes the cold and out goes the varnish,

ripens your shine, but praise me

now, while it rains, so

that I can say you

meant it:

so that I can tell them you were

always right. Even when you

unhinged your jaw

and took a bite.

iii

Pomegranate splits, curtains scorch. Your

gums strung with feathers, acrid flames:

my blood my blood my blood

seasoning your tongue.

Underneath these echoes we

have the shining night, and

each other’s teeth.

Matthew O’Rourke is a poet and short fiction writer based in Limerick whose work has been recognised by VIBE, Chinchilla Lit, Healthline Zine, and Rotary. His work traverses cursed settings, matters of healing and release, and identity.