“True beauty is something that attacks, overpowers, robs, and finally destroys.”
― Yukio Mishima
One diverting month ruining his pride with guiding words of domination.
One playful week aiming my will to destroy his friends and family,
one by one before his eyes, driving him mad.
One simple stool in the middle of my living room,
one I know to be snug.
And now him, screaming because it knows, exposed while I'm nude,
its quivering flesh spread on the white leather.
My lips, whispering.
"You confessed my eyes could reduce you to my thing."
My lips, moist.
"I've patiently done so."
Its face, a wide opened mouth of abject awe.
"And I've done it well and ruthlessly."
Its body, trembling.
"You never thought I could be so massive."
My thoughts, jubilant.
Its miniature limbs, flailing.
My hips, ravenous.
Its body, convulsing.
My slit, elated.
Its fight and my fruition.
"I did you a favor: I emptied you"
My breath, my breath, my breath, my breath, m y b r e a t h
Its body, engulfed.
My little thing, engulfed in
One ecstatic squeeze of bliss!
We're both empty now.
When I stand up,
I’m still the one who survived.