Cheetah

Don’t be fooled by her pretty smile. She’s has
guile. She’s determined. She’ll curl up in your lap, purr
as a *****-cat. But she’ll claw you alive with her fancy

colored keratin  if you come any closer. She’s masterful
at defending her territory. She’s on the prowl. Hunt or
be hunted; that’s her style. She’s a feral cat in the

wild. With lightning speed she’ll ride you until
you’re exhausted. That’s when she’ll pounce. Then she’ll be
back after the attack  to lick the marrow off your bones. There won’t be anything left for the

scavengers when she’s done.  She’ll use your hair to floss
her teeth after the feast. And paint her lips with your dried
blood. Rouge her face and walk away, scarlet as
the red sea, drier than the Sahara sun, always ready to lunge.