what say you predator
flooding my spaces
with words of consumption
these you swore
were lacking motive
and still somehow
as i regain consciousness
i awake in your lair
first sun attempts
to force fleeting
stale night,
but lingering,
still rays
landing on my ass,
iridescent with the
oils of ravishing.

eight drops remain.

idle atempts
at convincing me
your divine intervention
would not sting.

< yeah >