Follow Me
These are hard times, I know, but what could love do but what I have done to you?
Think of the nights to come, when we can wander side by side, through the shadows, through the dusk, right up to the devil’s door.
So, go down the avenue past the young oaks, ignore the glances of the club goers, sneak into the alley, moving swiftly.
Ah, love, you will be mine, say the words as you run in the twilight towards the sunset.
There, down by the river, I know you remember.
You must be caught between belief, and others’ lies.
(Their tongues are more forked than mine.)
Tell me, does your blood still stain the grass blades?
(You will become what I am.)
A butterfly under the scars, my darling, the skin you wear so lightly will peel away.
You do not need to stay long, although if the memories please you like they gratify me, I will not blame you if you dawdle.
Pluck the flower that grows there, pick up the key underneath, and continue.
Do not gag, do not choke on the rot.
Be careful, my gem, for monsters dwell in the woods.
I would not have you fall prey.
Later we can feast on the creatures who orbit the dark.
Watch the roots, make sure the willows do not grab your feet.
They will try to save you, not understanding what you will be.
Continue on.
I took you here, remember?
You cried on my shoulder, pressed tight against my sharp scales, until venom tossed you into sleep.
When you awoke, I saw the joy in your eyes.
Although matted hair covered your face, your eyes shone.
(I knew you gleamed for my fire.)
Your skin was so tender, so white against my talons, so fragile against my bulk.
I released you, to return you above almost killed me.
But then, you sniffed the air, you scented me on the breeze, and I watched your scarred form begin the search.
Love of mine, hope, sacrifice, follow to the iron door, slip the key into the hole, let go of your world, and come again inside.
Let the light of the cave guide you down the tunnel to where I lie sleeping in flame.
Follow me, darling, into the dark.