
His hand reaches for me.
He wants me for The Dead.
I won’t yield to his call.
He wants me in his bed.
I’m surrounded by his kind.
Their cries echo in the night.
He swoops closer from the sky.
Oh, what a beautiful sight.
He’s a creature of the night.
I’m crazy to want him so.
I can’t resist his sad face.
He is not a friend but a foe.
THE DEAD GAME







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Jane
almost in your bed
with bony hands he will caress
and fill you with cold desire
desire for Death