Viscera in danger

Their need is visceral, oh! pretty blonde girl–fresh trailer park trash. Junk yard dogs snarl and quarrel over your flesh–tongues wag to get at your bones. You’re twelve years old, and your marrow is aromatic. You sweat July, unpacking moving boxes. Mother is already drunk. Welcome to Contaminated Manor–find your place in the court, somehow… […]

via Viscera in danger; — Kindra M. Austin

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