awakened again by the touch of your breath,

cold on my skin. 

how much blood can I shed for you?

it runs down my fingers

slow as honey, sticky-sweet

measured carefully: only as much as it takes

to resurrect you (pour my life into your veins).

I loved you then, with your

saccharine smile and your 

promise of Greatness—

but in the dark you waited, 

teeth bared and

body aching for another to consume.