and it is the thrash of limbs, in my bed that keeps me from sleep, if I could sleep it is the musky scent of their sex bodies intertwined, that beckon me with identical smiles, they said nothing but unsistely kisses in the torchlight, in the halflight I listen to them come
"oh, Marguerite, we'll have to submit to his will..." " we'll have to submit..."
beckoning me, seducing me hand in hand, body on body moist to the touch the sweat soaked back that writhes in my hands the bottomless eyes, cold grey eyes that stare as I come
and the rasping, ragged breaths and the entanglement of limbs trace the bead of perspiration that hypnotises, mesmerises I inhale the sweetness of the innocence that I destroy my shadow rises and falls to the dance of the torchlight