it's over
just say you're lost
in ever-long disconnect
a moment of sober clarity, one minute
the sun is blinding the next
gracefully swaying out from the darkened room
you've not known how long it's been
but it feels so...
and then you touch, taste
and your catty eyes dilate
you're warm, and you're being devoured
fighting this, no
struggle, a foregone intent
the monster plays her seraphic body like a mandolin
high heels dig into the white satin whatever
wherever, because this is not where it was just then
but being ungrudgingly pinned
and holding hands with some angelic... monster?
of course, that which hides in your wardrobe
all night, watching you breathe
it is all a fine line, you know