It has no smell and no taste. It melts in my mouth like a perfect piece of tuna. I look in her eyes and say: " You are delicious ."Do you remember the Japanese cannibal who chomped his way through a fellow student at the Sorbonne in Paris, and later returned home to become a best-selling author and celebrity? I had forgotten the strange tale of Issei Sagawa until one of my course participants reminded me of the story last night and the rest started clammering for me to blog it for them today.
I cut her body and lift the meat to my mouth again and again. Then I take a photograph of her white corpse with its deep wounds. I have sex with her body. When I hug her she lets out a breath. I'm frightened, she seems alive. I kiss her and tell her I love her. Then I drag her body to the bathroom. By now I am exhausted, but I cut into her hip and put the meat in a roas(t)ing pan. After it is cooked I sit at the table using her underwear as a napkin. They still smell of her body.
Then I turn on the tape of her reading the German poem and eat. There is not enough taste. I use some salt and some mustard and it is delicious , very high quality meat .
Well, not wishing to become a sleezy tabloid blogger, may I direct you here and here if you want another serving?
But I strongly advise that you don't go looking at the crime scene photos.
(You don't listen, do you?)