You approach, careful to stay far enough away that it cannot snap at your heels. It knows you are there - it has your scent and the length of your words to tell it where you are - but you are too far away to be more tempting than merely in it's dreams, and so it sleeps and dreams away in the lazed bestiality that is it's mind where it chases clever vermin and sleeps under a moon large enough to shelter a growing hunger, and in the sleep of the beast it dreams an older dream, one without moonlight or victims, or anything at all, really, except for those things which are best kept away from judging eyes.
But this isn't about that dream.
This is about the beast, the fear keeps you from coming any closer, and the curiosity that ensures you do.
Wake me up at 2:22 P.M.
I wont bite.
Not somewhere where it wont hurt.
What do you fear more?
Being bitten, or being bitten and it not hurting?
1 comment:
Comparing yourself to a beast is silly, you are the most precious piece of art. You are painsteakingly beautiful and you have this pseudo-intellectual modern world view that makes you the inticing angel of my dreams.
Smile a little more, it's too pretty to hide.
- Kev
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