A colossal appetite.
A small menu.
A maw on a leash.
A serpent growing inside you,
bile breaking your remains down—
an arcane union.
I feel you twitch.
I feel you drip.
It’s getting tighter.
I feel the grip.
I look into your windows.
Your self-control slips.
Isn’t it divine?
Your will giving in to mine?
All it takes is tenderness and time.