a timid facade. there was something insidious about this woman. for the greater portion of this Saturday i watched her, teetering the balance between admiration and bewilderment. she possessed exquisite taste. jealousy corrupted my eyes, for a red cocktail dress that worshiped her every curve had tormented my intention of a tame Saturday. my gums began to thirst for skin. my hand began to choke the glass of bourbon i had been nursing. i thieved one last gaze of her impeccable figure. i left. forever enamored by the shiver of my Mistress whom i recall as Winter.
mercy, a Siren will sing.
Knot the noose of string.