The Twelfth Alcove
I, and You
I am that insidious
Little darkness which must
Be invited in
A license freely given:
Once this evil
Crosses your threshold -
You’ll never free yourself
I will grow within you,
Unknown to you at first
As nothing more than
A dull itch in a place
That your nails cannot reach
Sliding against you tenderly:
Calming your tremblings,
Hands gently stroking
Your warm tenderness
The quieter your eyes become
The more mine smolder
Under half-lidded gaze;
Until you sigh and moan –
I shall eat your exhalations, hungrily
Feeding from your delicate breaths
Your eyes close to observe
The silken waking dream
You have within yourself
There; that is what you have
That you have given me to take:
I want to sup on those dreaming eyes
That, which you have,
I may only have through you –
But you may never give it
Or it withers, disconnected from its source;
It may only be taken:
Pulled from you in pieces
Fresh and dripping
And so, as you pass into waking dream
I awaken with a hunger –
Softly brushing lips
Reveal the ravenous teeth
Hidden in a kiss,
And gentle hands turn cruel
Grasping with an urgency
Your eyes open, startled,
To a nightmare which I dream of
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