Killer of killers.

A disease

that once implanted into the brain

festers indefinitely.

I looked into his lens,

his flash captivated my every sense,

leaving me rudderless –

relieving me of my sanity.

His height: a beauty, a preference,

left me without power,

without words –

my voice slamming against his towering

frame,

absorbed into nothing, whisking me away

into phantomland.

One by one

my “competition” grew,

climbing to such high numbers

that at some point I

could no longer count,

keep up.

All the pretty girls –

ALL the girls –

cutting their eyes

at each other,

hoping to extract the

Killer of killers –

the disease that he is.

Hoping to be in the range of his lens,

to be shot, to be

edited

into his life.

They all desire the disease –

His disease –

to become implanted onto their brains,

festering indefinitely.

To be in his photographs:

because we all know photographs are forever…

 

Unless he decides to throw them away.

 

– Queen G

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