#93 – Woman Twenty One

red_smear

She is speaking in tongues.

A flapping echo of language, so fast that

her own glistening fang bites her soft lip,

again and again.

Laughter gurgles up and heightens into

a reverberating shriek of delight.

Her lipstick escapes the dry edges of a wicked smile.

 

She is a crimson smear.

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