There's no flame like that which burns in my heart

The Dying Lover (A very short story by Zephyrael)

T’was a single taste of bliss which twined round my throat stealing my breath. Naught but a razors breadth between lips parted for a kiss never to come. It ran in rivulets of red, the blood from parted flesh. Oh had I only known it was you who’d bring me to this. Perhaps our dance could have lasted a bit longer, our agony brought to unending climax. Almost laid low am I, now. Still tighter you pull as I struggle within your arms. Never have I been held so closely, as a lover might. I could have never dreamed it could be like this.

 I am drunk now on your eyes, so full of villany! Oh how they glass over as you press yourself to me. How many have you touched so? How many have known your wrathful caress? I see the fires flickering deep within your gaze and yet you hold me tighter still. My breathing is so faint it is but a whisper hoping longing for solace. Still the rivers run red. Ruined flesh bathed in moon light as your hands twist the wire garrote. Our dance lingers a moment more before we’re spilled upon the floor, body to body. You breathe for me now as flesh tinges blue. My lips growing cold yet my eyes never falter.

We’re always afraid the first time. Yet this will be my only. Though you will carry my memory aloft into infamy. You love me in my twilight hour. Dance macabre with me in ensuing darkness. Oh those rivers so red, spilling my life into your hands. My fire has gone yet you remain to caress what once was. You murderous lover, sin! Move along now…. there’s no life left within. Was it good for you?


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