and even though my eyes are closed, the image floats behind my eyelids, haunting and beautiful. horrifying. her lips are red like over ripe cherries, a seductress, and she beckons you. who could resist a taste of sweet fruit when man could not even resist the taste of the fruit of death. hazed, you smile at her, and forget my name, intoxicated, oblivious. she is the devils own, and you, you play right into her hands. and here, four thousand miles away, i weep over a dream, a nightmare that won’t stop replaying in my head, of you and her. and this is why i must leave.
