weeds.

tale of the circle king

i feel a bit defiled
i want to be pursued by him though, to coax him to give chase.
to watch him fumble through the bracken, gun in hand.
and falter

limp
as i rip him into warm, wet clumps of sod.

he's so sweet and clumsy. i want to eat more of him.

less hesitation

less blue blooming under brushed pink lips
less teethmarks.

i want to take more and feel less.

i suppose i'm an adult now
since i've been persuaded by the wanton urges of a hunter so established.
yet i couldn't feel his beard as he kissed me.

i didn't feel much at all.

except his teeth sinking in, drawing blood, as he whimpered, sucked the life out of me.

but i'll let him catch me again next time.
like i do every time.
cos i've got hope that my hands will fit all the way around his neck.

and maybe he'll let me squeeze.