Quite sonnets strum soft. As the beauty unveils in the glow of silver night light.
Awaiting the heart to so be soothed, left absent
In void.
while sour grows the fragrance of his scent.

Then in graphic ecstatics, the howling stings calm ears.

Freely deleting existence from Its singing

Peace, the blow. Which confides such wisdom

On her he dines.

Swapping crimson with saliva, wading in horror, now feasting,
Unending

On her the doe,

Which roamed distant,

In darkness,

Finding rest in instant death.

Of the gleam of the creature who walks on two like you.