Don't Talk To Me Of Love
Don't talk to me of love, my dear, But talk of lust and quickening breath. Whisper it now into my ear, How demands unmet will be the death of you, your need like sharpened claws, Your coiling greed scarce now held back. And me, how with a quiet pause, I tempt your beast to spring the trap. I blink, and now the spell is broken. I feel your breath upon my face. Our hunger intertwined, awoken, As o'er my lips you cast your g...