In return for my eternal wait,
You would feed me honey; and lovingly, nightshade,
Grow my comforts; keep me safe, and warm,
And place my chrysalis as the final song
Of your last victim. A flutter in the throat.
When at last, they look back on us both,
And all that we achieved, where will it tingle?
Which piece will I miss the most, once it’s removed?
Will you offer a kiss goodbye? Before
I emerge: a flutter in the heart, imago.
Inspired by Silence of the Lambs. Dedicated to Blair.