My eyes linger on his neck, only he’s
Looking away. To hold his jugular
In my teeth, to rake fingernails and tear
Tender flesh--pain, not as punishment but
As a declaration of sweet freedom.
If pleasure is my birthright, if pleasure
Has been denied of me so long, I will
Reclaim it with lipstick, claws and high heels.
I think the word for this feeling is bloodlust.
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