He is beyond intimate
With the texture of fresh human meats
How it feels
How it slaughters
How it stretches against his sharp blade
A godlike penchant
For the curves of red blood cells
And the metallic taste of crimson spray
And now
As he takes your doe-eyed life
And wears your dying heart on his sleeves
He will know all your secrets
And none of your regrets
As he fuses with your thoughts
And makes them
His
Own.