The winter smells of
blood,
a rich urgent color
perfectly fresh and
my very essence beckoned to me,
seductive.
The herald of bad news,
of disaster
and scars
yet cold, white burning
pleasure.
I am the First Eve.
The winter smells of
blood,
a rich urgent color
perfectly fresh and
my very essence beckoned to me,
seductive.
The herald of bad news,
of disaster
and scars
yet cold, white burning
pleasure.
