Waterfalls.

The blossoming miscreant ascends from the depths of the mire. Child birth and sun death. Two cold stars, bound in beauty, offering endless nebula. She rises. Forcing cuckoo throat painsong from the wettest mouth. Words of wonder, splashing over milk teeth. A little medusa tongue seduction. She breathes. The willing flesh vessel rises. Waterfalls. Time slows. A moments perfection. She closes her eyes.

A ripping foray of ugly entrails scream through the meat and bone. Needle stab trickery. The dull ache of blood loss unfurls. A sad pain spreads forth. The pleads of a pseudo Lycanthrope, splash like vomit. Slapping gore into the Earth. Stains on sheets. Ultimate disappointment. Everything falls. She still breathes.