In the Shadow of Lust

My shadow has a name and her name is Lucille. She is my Poet, Priestess, Lover, and Muse. Her beauty surpasses the eyes of the beholder, then rips them out. Her intellect knows more than she doesn’t, then renders you ignorant. Her bravery is unflinching, her loyalty unwavering, and her undying love often fatal. Some have met her, standing on the edge of existence - loaded needle in one hand, loaded gun in the other. Nothing to lose, or so they believe, they chance one more gamble on the loaded dice. And lose.

Trust me when I confess: I gambled on her snake eyes. And now wish to warn others, as I possess nothing left to do but my time. Nothing. You may think yourself intimate, or think you know her name. Allow me: she surely knows yours. It’s written in her book, and one day you’ll hear it in her mouth. And you’ll know that your time has come. 

I’ll still be here, waiting. 

Forever.