they call me Red

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on these streets the Wolves
hiss Red as i pass,
snorting-in-holding
the sweetness of oils
in my strands, my
pink skin.
their wide-eyes bigger
as i bite my lips,
plumping, daring to taste.
then
the challenge is met
with razor-eyes and a
wicked smirk:

"babe,
get ready to bleed."

Created: Mar 27, 2012

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