I envy the Huntress.
Red bowed and arrowed, she waits.
Pacifists and anarchists rage,
And wage war, for more to shed
Of life fluids from our brothers.
Stalking in the shadow, she waits.
Jealousy of her consuming entity,
I rathe and scathe in want to be her captor.
To grab her long dreaded hair, and pull
Adorned with a red fowl’s mark.
To graze her tattooed skin, quiver
My touch is soft, my fingers linger.
To slap her dirty face, see eyes,
A fire in them, look for mercy.
To have knees bent at my feet-
Total, unalienable, righteous
Control.
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