poem f-solo

She was a girl of saturnine beauty, sharp-nosed, with delicate bones
that he dreamt of breaking. Her eyes were a clear, clever yellow. The
irises were a little too long to be fully human. Her lips were almost
full. La Princesa. Royalty, they said. He stared awhile at her slim
frame. It was possible.
"Hey!" he called to her. He walked the three steps to the pale table
she sat on. He tapped her shoulder. She stared at him, irises
lengthening.
"Hay is for farm animals. I'm a girl," she said.
He took one cinnamon hand in both of his. He pressed down until he
could feel her calcium-starved bones weakening. "That you are," he
said. "Come home with me."
Tears of pain started in her lemon eyes. She ignored them. "Ask
politely."
"No-one asks anything of La Princesa," he replied, smiling. His teeth
were off-white.
She started. A bone in her captured hand snapped. "I'll kill you."
"That's what I want of you, princesa. Come home with me."
"One night," she said, bowing her head. "You deserve no more."
He laughed, bitter and short. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't expect
more."
"All of you do," she said softly. "Let me go."
He let her hand go and she slid off the pale table. He led the way and
they went to his home together, never touching until they reached his
bedroom. Then he kissed her mouth. He bit her tongue and lips, licked
at the blood like an animal. She began to weep. It was required. She
was La Princesa, shaped only for destruction. Deep inside, she laughed.
The taste of her own blood was bitter in her throat.
He stood inside the doorway of his bedroom several minutes, biting and
kissing her mouth eagerly. Her blood was thin and flowed freely. Then
he pushed her inside, pushed her until she hit a table and fell down.
He snatched a handful of her dark linen dress and tore it down the
front. She wore no brassiere. "Get up," he said to her.
She stared up at him with tears pouring down her face. She stood,
trembling on her feet. He dragged her by one arm to the bed and tossed
her down on it.
He frowned. "You're not bleeding enough."
She turned her head away from him. "Hit me, then."
He slapped her face and punched her several times in the stomach. She
coughed up blood. He smiled. "That's better."
She said nothing, only coughed and sat up, trying to get her breath
back.
He unzipped his pants, thinking of how warm and slick her bloody mouth
would feel on his skin. La Princesa. *His* princesa tonight. He
grabbed a fistful of her hair and jerked her head down. She took a
couple of hiccuping breaths and lay on her stomach. With her undamaged
hand, she pulled down his briefs. Her mouth dripping blood, she began to
suck.