I can feel you in the marrow of my soul,
a slow, silken poison threading through bone and shadow,
where moonlight drips like sin between my ribs
and your name becomes the hunger I was born to obey.
You are not memoryβyou are the fire that eats the dark from within,
teeth grazing the pulse of my ruin,
claws claiming every secret inch of me
until I ache with the sweet, filthy certainty
that I was never whole until you devoured the hollows.
Come closer, my ruin, my velvet curseβ
let me taste the echo of your moan in the marrow,
let me burn alive in the place where you live forever,
mine. Yours. Eternal in this exquisite wreckage.