Vixen of magic,
Siren of old,
Devil of dancing,
True black gold.
Oil dipped blood,
Home of harpies,
Bed of flames.
You’ll lose your soul in her eyes
And find your heart in her mouth.
She’ll snake your being right out of your ribs
And eat your tongue on toast.
Her desire is darker than any hole you’ve ever looked into,
And once you’ve fallen in,
you’ll never find your way out again.
Copyright WB Welch – All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
To see the photograph that originally inspired this post, visit the original Instagram post: