(this was written in the beginning of June and sent to a few friends, some of the responses have become part of the prose, if you feel like responding to it, as with everything, please do! I like to post the responses though, so let us know if you have objections to that!)

Bone Lady

I'll tell you my strangest fantasy if you promise not to think me
insane.

I would like to be stripped to the bones and exhibited in a laboratory
or museum or classroom.

I would like to see my bones preserved, in fact to witness my own
autopsy to see the flesh and bones of my self without skin and truly the essential me.

Some years in from now perhaps some archeologist from
the future, alien or human would reconstruct flesh over my bones,
muscles, organs, electrical response. Reanimate my structure. I would
have been witness to many years hanging in the lab of a scientist. My
teeth intact.

Looking at a skeleton can you imagine the person, could people remember
the flesh when faced with the bones. Would my loved ones keep me near,
or would it be too much for them to see. Would the saving of my bones
give me a stronger connection to them, could I be passed down from
generation to generation, like a relic, the bones of their ancestors,
could I even after my death have direct and profound impact on those
people around me. Eric promises that he would caress my bones every
day, could I in those moments speak into his mind?

Will I grow weary of my restless state? Would I dance a rattling jig at midnight, scratching
the floor with the bone of my heel, would I trail marks on the wall with the tip of my metatarsal.

Would you stand fleshless next to me my partner, truly barren of
pretense,
know your own bone, gnaw at it bury it, unearth it and gnaw it still*

And to go even further, would you eat my flesh and drink my blood, would you please cannibalize me, take me in, spice me, herb me, rub me with
sea salt and olive oil. Sauce me, soak me in wine, enjoying it, could
you enjoy it? Or would there be disgust and sorrow, and grief... no, not
if you eat me because I promise the feast will leave you sated, after
all, within you I will be tickling and laughing at the secret knowledge
I have gained and will impart to you in secret dreams and minor
hallucinations. I will act like a slowly released drug, until fully
digested, but still the essence of me within you and the bones of me
before you how could you then ever forget me!

J.D.
*H.D.Thoreau

This fantasy was obviously inpsired by the wonderful cover art to
Twisted
Sister's classic opus "Stay Hungry"
(http://a872.g.akamai.net/7/872/765/27e611436918/allmusic.com/im/amg/cov/drc300/c369/c36918a8t6u.jpg).

Or perhaps the cover of the sublime Fall lp "Cerebral Caustic"
(http://a1748.g.akamai.net/7/1748/765/29776d5123659/allmusic.com/im/amg/cov/drd200/d236/d2365933xtq.jpg).

Although Dr. Octagon's concept album "Dr. Octagynecologist" does seem to

have a vision of your future fantasy
(http://a1400.g.akamai.net/7/1400/765/27f46a389428/allmusic.com/im/amg/cov/drc800/c894/c894285t1i6.jpg)

But yet, if I gather up your bones, if I feast on them, even with the
forbidden Extra Virgin Olive Oil of Amen Ra, will I yet become a god?
For
this only, will I shed my exoskeleton.

Will the feast cause me to abandon my cherished vegetarianism?

Will I be able to use your skull as a spooky hand puppet?

Will the gods punish me for these orthopedic transgressions? Will my
rheumatologist forgive me?

-- md

yes, i will keep your bones with me and pass you on to a museum when I
die. I will caress you each night in my
bed, only hiding you in the closet when guests who wouldn't understand
come over. You will sit at the dinner table with
me everynight and cuddle with me before the fire. And everynight I will
fall asleep yearning for you to visit me in my
dreams...

But, i don't think I would eat you...unless you left me a recipe...
EJD