sips of little death (by: eddy styx)

sips of little death
by: eddy styx

a stream of hot breath
on the back of your neck,
kisses full of little death
which you greedily gobble down

what must you be thinking?
if you thought at all.
what is it you are drinking?
is that absinthe in your chalise?

lay down on your bed with open arms,
invitation on your lips
displaying heated charms
expecting a ten-fold return.

never do you have a thought,
for delayed payment
of sexual favors bought
with credit overdue.

you only take, never give,
your life runs out
like a giant sieve
in your oblivion.

you see your death within my eyes
along with lengthening shadows,
only starting now to realize
soon, you\'ll be hanging at my gallows!