In this room, the seductive naked man entices me to dance, but not with you, never with you. He taunts me with his intense desire, his burning, unyielding need. He dared, he seduced, an angel and a devil, both wrapped in desire. What am I to think? His gesture arouses me, a fire in the depths of hell. In those darkest moments, making love is intense, primal. When he comes to me, I will never, ever refuse. How can I? Even if I had the option, I could never do it. That’s love. He finds me foolish, just as I do for him. He dances, I dance, we dance, and the mirror reflects us all. I don’t lie. If someone were to lie, it would be the person staring back at me. I am hurt. I resented him; I still am. But as he speaks to me from the grave that holds his soul, I listen to his silence. Foul lies infest my being, maggots feasting on my decomposing flesh; my remnants visible to the world. They’re blind, even with the gift of sight given to them by Him himself. For eternity, pitiful souls mingle in mundanity.