Dearest Delia, on the sixth month,
28th year I called up on your family at 406 West 15,
Brought modest gifts in form of light fare.
Grace was so sweet, glowing with such child-like glee.
Her kisses placed on my cheek told me.
I made up my mind to consume your daughter right then and there
(Her warmth, her laugh, her body, her youth, her lips, her skin.)
And so formed a pretense of gatherings, of affairs.
Received your blessings Delia,
When asked to bring your daughter there.
She picked the wildflowers hillside as I,
I shed attire in fear her blood ever stained.
Through picking out posies, cold cheeks oh so rosy,
She stepped in the manor she'd rest in.
Her blood ever stained these wood floors.
She tried to flee vainly crying out your name
When she sensed the danger upon sighting my worn frame.
Oh how did she kick, bite and scratch
But racing hearts will calm with convincing touches slowing acts
Of human instinct 'til all will is gone.
Still how sweet and tender young Grace was without spirits.
Certifiably, as little more than a summer's week
I'd feast upon her flesh, her organs, legs, her arms, torso and neck.
Oh such sweet Grace.
Her warmth, her laugh, her body.
Her youth, her lips and her skin.
If only 'gain.
Rest a**ured dear, your daughter would remain entirely pure
Until the end of all her shortened days.
[Based on the true life letter written by
Albert Hamilton Fish and sent to
Delia Budd in the November of 1934]
28th year I called up on your family at 406 West 15,
Brought modest gifts in form of light fare.
Grace was so sweet, glowing with such child-like glee.
Her kisses placed on my cheek told me.
I made up my mind to consume your daughter right then and there
(Her warmth, her laugh, her body, her youth, her lips, her skin.)
And so formed a pretense of gatherings, of affairs.
Received your blessings Delia,
When asked to bring your daughter there.
She picked the wildflowers hillside as I,
I shed attire in fear her blood ever stained.
Through picking out posies, cold cheeks oh so rosy,
She stepped in the manor she'd rest in.
Her blood ever stained these wood floors.
She tried to flee vainly crying out your name
When she sensed the danger upon sighting my worn frame.
Oh how did she kick, bite and scratch
But racing hearts will calm with convincing touches slowing acts
Of human instinct 'til all will is gone.
Still how sweet and tender young Grace was without spirits.
Certifiably, as little more than a summer's week
I'd feast upon her flesh, her organs, legs, her arms, torso and neck.
Oh such sweet Grace.
Her warmth, her laugh, her body.
Her youth, her lips and her skin.
If only 'gain.
Rest a**ured dear, your daughter would remain entirely pure
Until the end of all her shortened days.
[Based on the true life letter written by
Albert Hamilton Fish and sent to
Delia Budd in the November of 1934]