Icy hands caress my face, My heart begins to race. Held fast in a warm embrace, Crimson lips touch my face. I begin to melt, As your love for me is felt. Raven hair upon your shoulder, You never seem to grow older. Your words hypnotize me, As my defenses desert me. You soon become my sire, For you are a vampire
Countess Danielle · Sun May 20, 2007 @ 03:21pm · 0 Comments |