Choice

I toss the coin and watch is flip the face of chance.
The balance of what? Fate?
I had dealt myself the cards. Me.
I sketch the lines of your face and you become a product of my imagination at the apex of my fears.
I can remember the bite of your lips and the taste of blood.
The prey thought herself a wolf.
Where was my surrender? Behind curtained sight I can't remember.
I saw the dark mirror and your shadow cast, a black silhouette. You hide in the shade of my eyes.
To blink, to sleep, is your mode of visitation.
You demon.
You nightmare.
You pricked my finger with your bitter thorn.
You drew me in with the sweet effluvia that emitted from your velvet lips.
A rose.
The petals wilt, the stem collapses.
The richness of the beauty, gone.
A wounded lamb left for the vultures in a room with no windows.
You took the lamb for your own and wrote your name, fingers dipped in blood.
I woke in silence.
The room was cold and stale. I was part of it.
An object.