Come to me, if you dare-
if your spine won't splinter beneath the weight of want.
If your hands are steady enough
to hold a woman carved of tempest and tongue.

I am not gentle.
I am not soft.
But gods, I am sweet
to those who know how to taste me.

I'll kiss like a promise,
bite like a curse.
Leave your pride at the harbor
and bring only thirst.

My bed is a battlefield,
my sighs a siren's snare.
I wont ask for your heart-
but I will steal your air.

You'll forget your name
when I wrap my legs around your fate.
And you'll thank the stars
that I ever let you break.

So if you crave danger in lace,
if you seek ruin laced in rum,
step aboard and test your grace-
but know this:
you'll never leave wholly mine.

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Daedalan, in the year 986 AF.