"What do you want?" The question lingered in the room as his fingers played with my hair and mine painting stars over his bare chest. How could the devil be so soft? The thought was all I held onto as he held me, tangled in sheets of misery and distortion. — words coming soon

"I want him to suffer. Death would be too kind." I knew he had smiled. The air shifted. My words sing to him, a poisoned lullaby. "A curse, then." The words left his lips, fingers traveled down the side of my face, dipping towards my neck. Drenched in the devil's poison.

I wasn't sure what to expect from the night. Having already accepted the invitation, I want to run. A withered rose in her absence. Centuries wouldn't be enough to wash away stains. Grief littered halls. Who was I to deny them life and laughter? — words to come

Dark Places

Detail from Perseus and Andromeda by Joachim Anthoniszoon Wtewael.

roses covered in snow.

Temple of Medusa by Dan Zollinger

Sensuality by Franz von Stuck, 1891

hair of midnight lips of rose skin of snowdrop wings of crows

Blood Moon by Maéna Paillet

a taste for blood and roses

open.spotify.com/track/7fW3FdTN…

i'm starving, darling. let me put my lips to something. let me wrap my teeth around the world.