bloodlust lover

her lips, like roses,

fell away at the slightest touch,

cascading down her ivory neck

like a velveteen waterfall.

her lips bled the secrets

of her darkest hours,

but she was lovely,

in the purest sense of the word.

she meant all to me,

and I all to her.

but summer passion

in winter raindrops quells,

and she was gone again.