She Arrived at my Door like the Christmas tree from Hell

She arrived at my door like the Christmas tree from Hell.
Truly she was fuked. I mean one of those you really Could see coming...they're their own clan you know.
Used to swagger into my apartment at six am, coming off night shift where she worked in some call center, the real Lolita.. screwing with the bored fat middle aged floor manager's heads with glee.
Always wanting something..a tin of tuna, smokes, my camera on her legs....
We had our tender moments..I recall her showing up once with a goddamn 3 inch long piece of steel shoved thru the nape of her neck. WTF I said, oh just shut up she said and see to it.
Parted her long hair, spread her thighs on my chair, she did, waiting for the sting of alcohol...
It was the oddest of friendships.

So, this one night I have become I, Camera. We are getting cat cunted up on Jack Daniels & hair product. She's shaking that two foot fall of hair for me dry
and fondling her breasts with disapproval...frowning for the lens..do ya think they're too small she says?

We laugh. I got fat thighs she says pinching the fold..
waiting for me to disagree.
Ah, your such a whore I tell her, put the camera down.

Dance with me she begs, and we waltz across the living room floor, the blizzard outside hammering the windows, double lunacy on wings.

And then. She's in my mouth, her ball studded tongue rolling cross mine. Four exposed shoulders. Croon.
Bite her fat lip I do, and watch her eyes roll back.

A Kodak moment. And I miss you, Bitch, I do...