I will drink you while you scream.

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The sweet champagne of your vein will coat my tongue where I have stung.

Your cried protests I will contest, upon crimson breast I have fest.

Pale and meak, you, I do seek, though you grow weak, you still shriek.

Why do you fight against my might? I keep you in my sight, even through your painful plight.

Keep me warm, and about your heart I will swarm, to keep you from harm...

Rest now love, I shall lift you above, you are my whitened dove.

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