she waits
for the appointed time
which curls
around her intestines
like a beautiful noose.
the footsteps
are always quiet
and paced.
one...
two...
three...
they inch
towards her chamber
of pink
with confidence
and
apathetic lust.
her disdain is disillusioned
by the sheer fact
that the warmth
is genuine love.
so she stays quiet
while vile deeds
penetrate and punish
tender emotions...
turning them
into razor fanged
memories
that long to feed
upon the fleshly sameness
that gave her life.
confusion erupts
as scintillating sensuality
pours
from once upon a child
and a woman emerges
dressed
in the funeral regalia
of times gone black.
satanic thrusts
engorge her kitten
with seeds
of bitterness
which will someday
feed her revenge.
but yet
cuddly caresses
ensure
that this is normal.
creeeeeak...
the chamber is sealed
until the sordid thirst
rises once more.
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