Darkness. Not a soul stirred.
The world holding me a willing prisoner.
Myself, a sated lump…
A distant cackle, a howling voice perhaps?
A cry of fear, creeping up.
Blurred confusion, then a settling presence in white
A chill, a shudder, a start.
Then a word of sympathy and pleasure
An eye- the devouring hole.
Another eye- my ocean of peace
It needs to possess me…
Bent on consumption yet held back by something stronger!
By something mine…
By something sweet…
By my only color, my only love!
A searching cry—but a kind hand holding my hand
My Only Defense!
No arms around me, so
Blackout. I wake up