My love wears no mask.

It sprints into the room,

Fully nude, beautiful, and proud.

It spreads its legs wide, and arches its smooth back.

My love is alive. It makes faces at you.

It twists and pulls a curled nose into a bubbling hunk of flesh,

And stretches banana lips across sharp, angular teeth,

Revealing an amethyst tongue, designed to lure and destroy.

My love is alive. 

It narrows its eyes, until you can no longer tell if it’s staring 

Or sleeping.

Until you can no longer tell… If it’s even alive.

Because it holds its breath, making faces at you,

Yes, wielding an amethyst tongue,

In hopes of remaining stuck that way.