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[ The Muse(s) ] Silenced Lambs
Dear Agent Starling,
Do you really think that if you
spell it out neatly in your detailed
reports and files that those spring
lambs will ever stop their screaming?
Every monster you put behind bars
or
to death like our poor Buffalo Billy
may put you rungs higher on the ladder
in a world where all the men question
your ability to do what they consider
to be a man's job, but
I'd doubt their hesitation to
trample you on their way up
grinding heels into your knuckles
until you say, Uncle ...
... or in this case, Uncle Sam
You might save a few unfortunates
along the way from having the their
flesh flayed and sewn into a
human costume, but are you truly
comfortable in the suit you wear?
Even now, I can see you
squirming in the skin you are in
with so many eyes fondling your
fleshy parts, judging the
width of your waspy waist
dovetailed curvature of cleavage
wondering what it would be like to have
the monuments to their manhood
erected on the tip of your
southern drawling tongue
I fear your need for their approval
will consume you as much as you
would devour their flesh in bed
or perhaps up against a wall
in a basement storage locker where
there are no bagged and tagged
mementos of the rude people I ate
My advice is, if you are going to
take anything into your mouth
leave no trace evidence behind
as I did; swallow it whole
be deliberate with your dalliances
leave nothing to chance or they
just might accuse you of sleeping
your way to the top ten most
wanted employees of the F B I
Until we meet again, TTFN
Yours always,
Hannibal
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