She steps through the doorway her beauty at once terrifying and unbound.The list of souls she will conquer tonight make themselves known, as they scurry to her. Fighting amongst each other for the tiniest scent of her false affection.
As she glides across the room she mimickes a calm dove-footed angel. Then spies her latest victim. He is holding her drink as she commanded. She waits to be noticed, as she prefers to be the single object of his desire.
She refuses to see her past suitors, whom she used then forgot. They, left homeless, and heartbroken like smoldering, disavowed children. Longing for a destiny bubbling with honey.
-Johnny V.
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