I ran my fingers through her copper hair, I was compelled by her Ivory skin.
She had monopoly over my mind, my body and my sin.
Her soul was dark, her lips tasted like Cava.
She demanded I tear off her dress, her Balenciaga.
We fucked to the soundtrack of her favourite vinyls.
It was aggressive.
Assertive.
Demonic.
Primal.
I lost myself in the darkness.
I was bound by her spell.
With no control of my actions, I became unstable, unwell.
I couldn’t escape, no matter how hard I tried.
She could bend wills with her tongue, move things with her mind.
She’d slice my palm and drink my blood.
She’d charge me up so the sex was good.
Her ritual lost its power when the moon eclipsed.
I was no longer bewildered, bothered, bewitched.
For three years she kept me, her prisoner of desire.
Today that witch got what she deserved.
Three words.
Death by fire.
Jacknowledged 