There is no plateau to the kind of hunger I harbor with you. There is just falling.

I am under your heart. I beat against it; the voice of my wolf is the roar of your blood. Torn and tattered is the only way you can perceive the truth of my hunger.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.