As I sit here within the darkness of this room of mine, I wonder...

I wander. And I think beyond the shadows that smile and wink. The cold hands I shiver and succumb to urge me deeper. Ever deeper.

I can barely kiss its dead lips and frozen silken skin as it traced my face with tips of horror, loving me in all its fullness. Its sexual and lustful fullness and darkness, along with its aluring eyes of tantalizing rejoice, play me along like the violin in a symphony of nocturnes and lullabis.

Her nails, scraping my fingertips, trailed off into herself as she encompassed me. Her body, the origin of the lunar crescent's envy, riddled my mind with her simplistic curls. The air of her being and the romance of her dance laced my mind with exotic rapture. Her twirls and steps, leading me in and out of her labyrinth, twisted my body in such despicaple pleasure.

Who do I owe this pleasure?
O, Who do I owe my sensations?
What mystery must I uncover to define this sensual lover...?