My Folly Servant

You are a curious thing? Not from my creation, but I can feel the calling from your veins. As if your veins are looking to coil onto a telephone pole, or onto a Victorian home porch. Your veins have an innate need to smother their host. Perhaps, you are oblivious to the rose bushes and the dangers of the awakened?

***

Perhaps, you are a gift from the Gods? A vibrating soul who can turn his tragedies into a delicacy for my consumption. Although, a degenerating servant. I wonder what will become of the vibrating flickers in your eyes when they meet my sight. A sort of goon, or perhaps the wisp of wind that is escaping your lover’s departing breath. I wonder.

***

I must also depart, but no longer for a score. I can’t maintain my tongue far from your fate, and I will witness your whimpering smile fade into madness. Although for a moment, my bitterness will become forgotten, and I will be again wicked.