Her clothes scattered like leaves,
I watch her pounce from one side to the other.
Cat purrs, and I watch her twist my body into position.
Sliding silk, I pull and tug.
Day 1: The Feast.
Mouthing sadness, she one-by-one pulls of her first layer of skin.
Never the right amount of beauty.
Never the right amount of anti-everything.
I want to love her with every inch of my being.
She could eat my carcass alive.
So much torment is part of the process,
Becoming one of them.
""My favorite activity is getting ready."" She laughed.
You are f*cking invisible.