Black widow Victorian dressed hyper realistic

She is a sweet poison, a tempting trap that ensnares me like a fly in a web. Her eyes, her lips, her skin are irresistible to me. She pulls me into a vortex of ecstasy and agony, where I forget who I am and what I know. She has no regard for the aftermath, the ruin she leaves behind, the hearts she shatters. She only chases the present, the rush, the delight. As I sink in her arms, I glimpse the heap of broken hearts under her feet, and I realize I’m just another one of them.