Huntress smiles harshly while posing, a trim pale

knee striking out over ankle, over them,

drying stripes of foreign blood reek on her chain mail,

dinner in the mouths of her babies, fangs strung.

The younger is already sleeping and dreaming,

lips thick with luxury, thighs strong as rods,

the tiniest version of her that you’ve ever seen,

in sleep, spines hidden, they’re gods,

they are gods!

She warms her tongue on the roof of her sly mouth,

eyes flushing gold in the memories of kills,

her muscles taut as she hovers, her mind froths,

guarding her merciless young in the hills.

She wars with the beasts that come up from the valleys,

wailing and boasting and claiming her land,

she wars with the forest, accusing its folly,

of hiding the prey from her swift, able hand.

She wanders the clifftops and forgets her children,

except in the night when she stumbles back home,

she watches them sleep with a strange sense of pride in

the way that they look like her, lips caked with foam.

Those faces, elated, or blissful in moonlight,

which, wild-eyed, rip flesh from the flesh of the bone,

will one day delight in the pouring of gore right

into their hard bodies, gorging with their souls.

And it makes her stay,

that they’ll act this way,

til the dawn of the day,

makes her watch them in sleep,

til she runs off in madness,

in decay and sadness,

in trampling excess,

and flavors that keep.

Soon, they’ll run,

soon they’ll fight!

By the end of the night, even,

maybe they’ll wake up and sharpen their teeth!

Soon they’ll split,

soon they’ll maul!

She might turn into prey, even,

who would be prouder than she in that death?

But it’s too much to think of,

while they shuffle and snore soft,

she ponders the conquest that nature supplies,

maybe glances at their cheeks,

their round hips,

their warm feet.

Is that feeling


Weak, fleeting lies?

What is love

for a moment,

the longest, the most that is

ever allowed for a  fright of her kind?

It passes, she snarls,

and almost wants to bite them,

for bloodlust has worth

that love cannot


They snuggle and snort,

eery, she moves back and forth

over their bodies,

and their beating hearts,

one day they’ll war with her,

strong and ferocious,

she smiles and imagines

ripping them



11 thoughts on “killers

  1. Sufi…

    “one day they’ll war with her,

    strong and ferocious pearls,

    she smiles and imagines

    ripping them



Love you, too

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s