Whittle

Lip chewing Making waves Beneath heavy lids Going down stares Led by come hither fingers Dripping darkness dares To steel my clenched fist Whittle flesh, make a man Bereft of bone and sinew Pedal and brimstone Whet with gore and malice Grinding shrapnel for dessert Soaked in lies and afterthought Napalm charring the bowel OfContinue reading “Whittle”

Vampire

it isn’t need it isn’t just it’s purely fetish a wanton lust the master calls a fugue befalls heightened senses for walking palls she draws them in through promised sin playful teases ‘fore tearing skin when comes the blood priapic flood consuming all throws husk to mud her weakness red desire bled though needn’t feedContinue reading “Vampire”