Not yet bloody enough for you, then
Cut deep,
and let my entrails scrawl.
Read portents in intestined loops:
Forecast doubt and despair
From the shape of my liver;
Hold up my heart as shuddering example—
Gorge well on my lifesblood.
Rend flesh, gnaw bones, suck marrow…
And then, there where you have had your fill,
Pile scraps, gobbets, orts and leavings high
In the flensed flesh,
Sew it up,
And let me go home
In peace.