Beasts at Her Feet

 

She liked the beasts at her feet best, the ones with their heads so large and brown and full
of black black hair she could sink her teeth into them and hold hard and fast at her breast
and beat back back back beast back before you can eat her not that she won’t let you
because she’s hungry for the hungriest ones the ones who can’t control themselves whose
paws beat at her legs begging to be let up to curl up up and around her and take her back
to the wild white heat from which she’d come.