Come

22 augusti 2007

Your neck
My teeth
Your blood
My food

Come…
Come to me
Let me touch you
Caress your throat
Then to bite
And make you join us

It’s cold
I know
But this life
Or this death
Is good as well
Like any other

Thy don’t know
Imbeciles
But anyhow
They’re just food
Or perhaps
Another to come

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