When the shadows grow so dark and night appears to have conquered the land, I genuflect and kiss the claw of the dark master. I’m very reliable that way. Put a little pressure on me and I powder like ash.
A little friction lets out so much blood because I celebrate the cuts. I salt them and stew.
You are a peppermint cupcake in my throat, but don’t look for me tonight.
I’m tonguing someone else.