The Art Of A Bleeding Kiss:

The dagger has been drawn, no this is not Macbeth. I sit upon a throne of bones giving bad advice. Accompanied by the dead that whisper in your head. Where the wind is seen as frost within your final breath. Lick my lips and sauntered hips. The knife blade dangles, reminisce. Salivated tongues tied in a knotted kiss. Tongues wrapped in bliss and chains of spit. Dripping wounds of melted marrow as our bodies entwine. Finger paint the memories with a pleasuring demise. One last sensual penetration between my thighs, A single bleeding cut just below the ear. Dip your fingers in the blood, I love the feel as we paint the mirror. Never clear. Worry not my dear, for your heart still beats. You've merely obtained a secret as we laid down, naked and untamed. You came willingly, with moans of pleasure we soaked the sheets. There is pleasure in pain, and knowledge to gain. Perversion of the human curse, suffering allure I know it hurts. Yet contains a beautiful worth. ~Zyhrenẞøng~