The high doesn’t last.
Yes, in that way it is like sex. The pleasure shoots you to the moon—until you orgasm, come crashing down, back to earth, where you roll over and realize the man lying in your bed is a rotting corpse.
Or vulture, as they prefer. It sounds less “Night of the Living Dead,” less “Give me your brains.” Although, we still want brain…
After he’s had his fill, he leaves with half my spleen and small intestines dangling from his mouth.
All I can think about is what to eat next…
Today’s tag was “vulture.”
Stay tuned for “W” tomorrow!