05/09/2011
Squalor, the countess
gracefully arching her back to swoop down
past the swaying pines outside of my new window.
She licks her lips in tempting, gently singing
me through my daily hunger, the helpless
searching for quarters under carpets.
Her breath in blankets of frost over my scaly
winter legs, her hot hands holding me
through my summer sweats.
Squalor, the countess
As to enter arcanum. to make words with ink
to leave blood behind.
gracefully arching her back to swoop down
past the swaying pines outside of my new window.
She licks her lips in tempting, gently singing
me through my daily hunger, the helpless
searching for quarters under carpets.
Her breath in blankets of frost over my scaly
winter legs, her hot hands holding me
through my summer sweats.
Squalor, the countess
As to enter arcanum. to make words with ink
to leave blood behind.