'Do you cry when you come?', I asked her.
'No' her luscious lips mouthed. Her black eyes a member
magnifying stare, she looked down with discrete uneasiness.
This made her dark hazel hair conceal her pandora's box of a
face. The light reflecting off her hair was trying to blind
me.
Succumb to me.
'Do you want to?'

We made love that night. It was beautiful, inexpressible
with words, but next time will be better. Tomorrow night.
She has given in to me.
A moment passed, and then another. Breathing heavily, she
spoke uneasily.
'My face is dry, lover.'
A glance from above showed me a picture of the bed as a
notepad, on which someone has scrawled her. She was lying
still, but her figure seemed as though it were a squirming
flickered animation.
She wanted to cry.
With a kiss on her shoulder, I left.

Come dawn, I dream of unfulfilled equations flying in space,
trying to breathe with no avail. They float, as if to mimic
me. I am in the space between the floor and the ceiling and
the sky, the bed dares not embrace me for I am full of wrath
come dawn.

At night again, I let her in my bedroom, this tragedy's
kingdom.
I looked at her, inspected her, with eyes of a vampire. The
gray city's chill joined us and increased my thirst for her.
I was a warlord ruling this space, putting the pieces in
their place. She conformed, her naked body lying on the bed.
I walked as if gliding, round and round the bed. And I
leaped at my prey.

We acted out the play of sex, slowly and hot, and it was my
night. I was in command, having the power to summon circles
of fire around us. The snakes of the jungle hissed and oozed
under the drops of the misty air. Sacred tribes were
chanting to their gods, their drums echoing throughout. The
dead were awaking, feeling the air of the night for the
first time in millions of years. I was beginning to get
terribly bored.

She died and went to heaven and hell and back. She cried.
I ran my thumb over her face and then my tongue, aspiring
with the salty substance. And I left.

She has not seen me since, nor will she ever again, but I'm
assured that if we meet again, her face will still be that
of my prey, and she will never cease to cry.

'Tell me, do you cry when you come?'