Do you remember the solemn gleam in your eye, like the blinking twinkle of gold in a stream? Of course not, you were fevered and foaming at the mouth searching for flesh to slowly bleed for you. With such grace you clenched your jaw and spoke through immaculate teeth, and your sweet words danced from your tongue, an intoxicating song for a man wild and blind.
What a call you hurled to the midnight air, your breath soaked in poison, for one more gentle hand of sympathy sprung from a casket of your making. But the hand is cold, as you crumple to the floor, clawing for whatever your fingernails can dig.