There’s a decadence of Devilish nature which draws her,
tendrils licking along her spirit as the ash settles..
slivers, like a melody to the calm that brushes along a sinful grace.
Something shivers along her skin as she brightens in the shadows..
the flames behind her eyes a quiet dance;
drawn to the chaos centered at the tips of each finger laced along forgiving flesh..
heard only in the breathless coiling of surrender..
A purposeful masterpiece of crevices undiscovered..
A feast for a Jack of all the frozen lands;
but a Miss-[tress] serviced in binding to none.