early: because even lovers can't sleep.

there's a bitter taste of affinity to waking before the dawn has had it's chance to spill. you know you've been rejected because you have no shame in wailing out the pain. body like a heavy tank of polluted waste. energy like rotten milk clogged throughout your bones.

you moan. you moan hoping that your wretched limbs will take pleasure in the pain of assaulted stillness, although you are certain that even those screeching wings can't hear you. your own ears won't offer you tight grace.

your glands clamp up like a mocking bud. soft and hot, one drop from yielding. fingers now begin to flatten as you enjoy the skepticism of coil.