She
walks into the room, all smiles; sunlight glinting
off a bare shoulder. Hips cut from marble, breasts
perfect and,
of course,
supple.
Radiance in female form; the sun a dull bulb.
Being noticed is her intent, her resource, her dark
power.
I do. I do. I do.
My intent, my dark downfall.
I forget it's my own dried blood upon my sleeve, my own sticky
trail trailing me. She floats over it undaunted, unfeeling. She
embraces me all teeth and tendrils. Ink for blood writing all
over
my broken heart with her notes of fuck you in the font of love.
Glass blows through my eyes.
Hope, a serial killer, with a killer grin. A kiss between
slick lips
wet
with the promise of finding home.
