Tighten your brutal grip, beloved,
I crave to be your prey.
With arms locking my neck—
None may I escape.
You melt ceaselessly inside me,
Yet more greedily I do crave：
To grow weary between us，
through thousands of dull days;
Then a grave too narrow for two,
Where you are forced to stay.
Nov 9, 2025
Nov 9, 2025 at 2:39 AM UTC
Tighten your brutal grip, beloved,
I crave to be your prey.
With arms locking my neck—
None may I escape.
You melt ceaselessly inside me,
Yet more greedily I do crave：
To grow weary between us，
through thousands of dull days;
Then a grave too narrow for two,
Where you are forced to stay.
Evelyn
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