Cupid's Chokehold~

"Too often it appears that love exists to wither and rot- through the death of independence, or the death of trust- love changes all, and in many shapes does it cast its spell. In the coo of a dove- in the crook of a cross, in the brush of fingers against velvet skin- it never sleeps, even when it does...burying itself like a maggot in a carrion throw- dare I call it a heart worm?...or perhaps heart burn?

 And when the breath of thy partner expires in the flash of a bonfire- even beyond death might you feel its snare, wrapped tight as a noose round that helpless neck- love becomes a dagger wielding rival, just waiting for your next blunder...and with that in mind, sometimes love is an assassin -in which case, run for your life."

                                                  -"Cupid's Chokehold " H.V. Moreau