Twas the night before Christmas
Where all through the house...

Eerie, does the silence grow
we watch them, with their holes aglow...

We came, we fell
a battle call...

I treated her
her inasmuch...

I love the thoughtful way you speak
I love your beautiful personality...

Wailing brokered the silence, paid
moaning fed human lusts, laid...

Foetal movements, clamber within
Gently prying a novel, smooth surface...

Words mark their time, on this fair soil
a latticework of assault rendered in their fading...

Oil, dripping,
a sheen of sweat...

A book without point
prose without poignancy...

Whilst the sun set, it dawned on her
As we lay, two humans, side by side...

Dry lips
on the notepad...