A set of queens pierce
The eyes that gaze upon it,
Caught in a daze while
Dull heat rises from the toes
To the black hair that
Covers his pale scalp.
The ending to a game
Of thrones,
Kings.
Irresistible jealousy.

Sheets draped, uncovered,
Lying, twisted in a pool
Of sweat and blood.
Drooping eyes catching
His.
He is lost, cold, broken,
Comfortable now.
They are comfortable,
Now.