My darling sing
the songs
that singe my wit
and bruise my blood
that trill the tunes
to turn the daylight dark.

My darling dance
me frantic,
strange, demented,
then touch me tipsy,
skin-on-skinned,
and I,
eternally your slave,
will follow you
below
— beloved.

Today De hosts the Quadrille at dVerse with the prompt being the word sing. I had to do with a little passionate darkness.

November 2, 2026