Bloody hungry, am I.
Hmm, who's bare flesh is that I see?
Two, long, gorgeous legs, ripe with sangria.
Darting toward the tan exposed skin
drunk on eatn' ya.
Diving daringly downward, in for a sip;
blazing balefully backward, out before the fatal finger whipp.
Gorged on rich blood, I sit on a nearby branch to digest.
While watching hundreds of my brethern be the next guest.
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