because you sunk your bare teeth into my neck when i wasn't looking, blood will gurgle up my throat and choke me every time that my eyes grasp hold of any piece of you, even your shadowy figure.
don't taunt me with the talon on your third finger anymore, don't drag the claw down on your way to the whereabouts i dubbed "the lonely everglade", for i sang it tales of how i fear you like i quaver and wilt at the thought of sacrificing the honeyed fathomage of your intonation for another shaky wheeze, one more chance at living in the coolness of your blue-of-the-bruise-on-my-once-gripped-thigh kind of breeze.
though i'm no more than crass and uncouth, not cut from the same precious stone as you were (though i theorize we are derived from the same star), you are crooked, knavish in the way that your mien is like that of a creature, age old and long-dreaded. your lurk is a glissade, and you do everything with a sort of blasé grace, though i dare not call you passionless; vigor and vitality are written on your eyes and all over your face.
so, i call you equal parts monster and rare gem because, aberrant as it may seem, i have found that one cannot exist without the other. maybe my brain sits crooked in my skull. but with it all, your presence is lucent, cloudless, and nothing short of astonishing. i should like to be worthy, i should like you to deem me worthy.
i don't know why i gave you that kind of power.
