Asmodeus

It’s the anticipation.

The space between.

Sheer clothes separating,

skin from skin.

Air dense with wanting.

It’s the passion.

The overflowing feelings.

Emotions awakening,

carnal pleasure brewing.

Love’s hungry growl slicing air.

It’s the yearning.

The very need.

Wanting something one cannot have,

taking another’s affection.

It drives the soul mad.

You wonder why.

Why does it happen?

You wonder what.

What causes such sin?

Darling, it’s nothing like that.

I can’t help that I’m pretty.

That mortals kneel before me.

I only linger in the shadows.

But it’s their fault

for calling upon me.