Your eyes drag me
to the depths of an unnamed fear.
In the darkest hour of the coldest night
silently, as they draw near.
The agony of being cornered
has muted my trembling throat,
as you advance on me,
stripped down to stark naked soul.
Shutting my eyelids is
all the escape I could muster,
as my heart skips
its final beat.
And I feel your
eight pronged fingers
crawling up my flesh,
caressing me with cold deceit.
And all I can hear is your whisper
muffled into an afflicting moan,
summoning me to the desolate north
to make love at the love’s tombstone.