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Click hereI will drink the innocence of your blood and make you mine.
And in return, the roiling power of it will flow through my veins, making me yours.
And nights torturous sorrow will see us to our bed, in a woods of dark intent, the trees will hold your beauty still for me to caress.
The loamy ground will accept our weight in a cool, moist embrace.
And there we shall lay, entwining as sinuous branches of lust.
This dark forest will breathe in awe as its lonely eyes watch over us mixing, writhing, stretching, and sighing. It will whisper in slow, gentle excitement, echoing our own.
In desperation, your hands will seek out anything to grasp, feeling only the cool, rough skin of our silent hosts. Their ever still presence shielding us from the scorching sun, and from God.
In this midnight forest we will be free...