The deep chasms keep burning their thoughts into my soul. Another leftover for a new remembrance. They are always the same. Bitter. Bloody. Breakable. Gnawing deeply into the marrow. Drink of the sweet juices contained within their thoughts. I enjoy feasting upon their forgotten memories. Their old remembrances. My new pleasure. A toy to break at my convenience. A life to take to the grave. A secret to nourish into extinction. The slopes of the female form. The devastation I can provide for them. Traumatizing their embodiment. Fully. Completely. Thoroughly.
G.G. Kalfas 