"Retribution" by Blayne Waterloo

That’s me, tingling in the arches

Of your feet as your toes curl. The

Way your lashes flutter and your

Cheeks flush. Does it feel bad?

Do I? In the time it takes to trace

Your finger down my femur you’ve

Already forgotten. Sop up your

Drool with a swollen upper lip

And tell me I’m wrong. You can

Deny me to delay gratification—

I’m not the one who needs it.

Seeing you like this, like a kept

Dog without a leash, is what I’ve

Been after anyway. That’s the thrill

That promises a jaunty trot home,

To the edge of the forest, where wives

And witches alike find me. Jars and

Jars we’ve collected, canning the

Eyes of others’ keepers.

Blayne Waterloo (they/she) is a horror writer and editor living in Georgia with their partner and loud dog.