Plump mouth, small hips, hair, breasts.

He dies ecstatic little deaths

and sighing puffs of labored breaths

won't bring him back to life.

.

Realize, blinking eyes

He scrubs his right hand till it shines,

but soft regret is no surprise

As he walks down the stairs.

.

Alone another sits

All made of ass and supple tits

Bones poking through her naughty bits

She cannot even stand.

.

He had screamed the first time

He heard sounds of attempts to climb

up flights of stairs while fully blind.

The first dream was headless.

.

She bled from her lean neck.

Like something he should resurrect

He had never been so select

As to image his ex's eyes.

.

The monster finally stilled,

He dialed her, panicked and unskilled

He cried when he found he'd not killed

The girl he had honored.

.

This new thing writhes and moans.

He presumes she's pained to her bones

She's made of parts of babes and crones.

He flinches far from her.

.

He shudders out a 'Why?'

She quiets, as if somehow shy

She makes a gesture that must lie.

Her hand's over her heart.

.

He looks at what he bode

He lies his hands around her throat

He'll fucking never blow his load

He vows, as her pain ends.