s*x in death
Cynthia Jane i can't sleep until i feel your touchwhen his perfect mask shattered, i awoke
It was a light designed to burn away the darkness, regardless of whether the person carrying that darkness survived the fire.
I was still pinned against the cold stone of the catacombs, my body trembling in the aftermath of a passion that had turned into a death trap. The black smoke of the King of Sorrows was still curled in my lungs, tasting like soot and old blood. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a frost-covered hand, struggling to beat against the crushing weight of the entity now occupying my husband’s skin.