Within the Pale

In cyclical motion I am undulating in a grass meadow, scythe in my hand. Wielding the weapon like a lover, motions a caress of whispers upon the wind.

Naked except for the moonlight, wearing it like a mask. Animal Spirits a corsage upon my soul. My telltale sign I will extinguish your life, swallow your essence and send you straight to the uncoiled serpent.

My beauty hanging round the world’s neck like the albatross, gorging itself upon the bile of excess. You cannot withstand my allure, begging for my wetness like a kitten, a lamb led to slaughter. My lover.