in the quiet moments of the night
your eyes blink with light
waiting in the ever present darkness
you fill my stomach with sharpness
blood fills my throat
as the swamp frogs croak
watching in fear of you,
the one of so few
nails sink gently into my skin
as you suckle out my sin
turning me pure once more
but i’ll still wonder if i’m yours
no the stars do not object
though they do neglect
creatures like you
the ones who make do
always searching for the second fix
on the ebony river styx