Meticulously planned, calculated,
Long to feel her skin against my own flesh.
Patiently in dark shadows I waited,
The exhilaration of something fresh,

Like a small trapped bird, thrashing in my hold,
Raspberry lips, I take without question.
On departure, grasp her throat till she’s cold,
Still and beautiful, now my possession.

Mine to touch; the dying warmth leaves her skin,
A silent moment that I do treasure,
But my longing returns, my scorching sin,
Nothing compares, nothing like this pleasure.

The light has now died, faded into black,
And I walk away, never to look back.

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