I will find your core and gleefully blacken it, hollow it out with a pestilence of heavy lust.
I will slither and slide my way into your thoughts, your dark flights, your impure fancies. My intentions are mad and grotesque and intoxicating. My confidence game, that of a grand master. Check and mate, precious.
A slightly sultry glance, a happenstance meeting, a few choice words…an “Oh look at the time.” I bait you, you bite. Do I prove just too intriguing to let go? Will I find you stalking me? Good.
I have you attention.
I trade in the commodity of pure obsession. I ply my hand forged goods: infatuation, preoccupation and compulsion. The first tastes are always gift, freely given, with a friendly and feigned generosity. Soon, you find your hunger.
You writhe and bend to a music that only we hear. Mad, discordant, ancient…tribal. You present yourself as offering while preparing me for sweet slaughter. Your body reacting to my whisper, your eyes commanding me to feed.
Once spent, only then do I realize it was you who corrupted me.
You baited me, I bit.