working title
We clash as seductively as silver and gold in the chain of an oil-tycoon. With a touch that challenges me to fight back, and a kiss that counters my very ideal of perfection you press your hands in an impulse akin to repulsive desire. You were raised to convert my kind and I have grown to deteste yours. Only one thing unites our delicate psyches of violent opposition, the thing I swore to never desire and the passion you crave in blood.
Together we've bound eachother to stakes to be burned as witches. We're drenched in radical gasoline as I caress your skin while the matchbox smell of sulfur fills the air.
Watching you go up in flames is the perfect ending and all I am is a fire to be fought.
Together we've bound eachother to stakes to be burned as witches. We're drenched in radical gasoline as I caress your skin while the matchbox smell of sulfur fills the air.
Watching you go up in flames is the perfect ending and all I am is a fire to be fought.