There are two rogues
that invade my dreams
Their touches are featherlight
they skim up my body
with nails scraping
teethed bared
Humorless chuckles that echo
on each part of these four walls
making the blood in my veins storm
They utter words of praise
devotion drips from their lips
while tongues of worship
melt on mine
Their words cut through the air
Wicked taunts lick its way across
my body in the form of a hand
rough calluses coupled in with
obsidian eyes
sadistic smiles
I want them to swallow me whole
have those little malignant spirits
reduce me to ash
Éloa 
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