his blood runs cold
over my rough hands
the knife falls to the ground
what have I done
why do I feel so amazing
standing here looking at him
he is beautiful , a latino beauty
his chest hard and strong
one clean line down the middle
exposing his organs drenched
in the most glorious crimson
his blood, delicious and warm
down my throat
what have I done
his lower half sits parallel to him
his knee caps missng
femeral artery in shreds
his olive skin going pale
but that face, stained my memory
his thick lustful lips trapped in a scream
I walk away, into new life
all thanks to my latino beauty