there’s just something about smeared lipstick. the lust of it. the desire. the carnal attraction of the red my red you bite i bleed. a cycle. lions. carnal mouthwatering beasts. smeared red across my lips across my cheeks into my hair. messy primal smear drag. drag. the drag of it the drag of gender dragged across soft parts. ruining their innocence. marking up significance on soft peachy skin clawed. cruelty is so carefully tangled in with this putrid sense of morality. mortality. carefully putting on something that will be smeared off later. ripped off soon. taking the extra fifteen minutes to meticulously apply the liner. doll up a cupid’s bow. exaggeration. dragging lipstick across chapped lips being pulled towards completion. all sweetly organized to be ravaged.