Pavi

the Prince comes in wearing his
latest lover’s face on his
own like a crown
with a smile that wins over
inhuman hearts,
for who can resist the
impeccable charm and the beauty
of sheer love incarnate?
blowing kisses and wooing anyone available, the

Rapists crawl on the dank walls, clawing
at the exposed mountains of flesh, ripping
through layer after layer of
thick veiny pulp
to stare into cold manipulative eyes,
an incurable hunger fueled by a power to
obtain the necessary, the fuckers will bleed,
and the Prince will

kiss the adoring young women, eye the men
by the wall, and move as a smooth liquid, glide
to seduce the wanting and the willing and
to find and
defile the
ones left unwanting, to force them a kiss
through two sets of lips, to
give what they fear,
to get what he needs.