She hits the blade with both hands high.

Downward is heavenward, and we are not alone.

Condensers on and the drop is found,

a fingertip trace says to me I can see you and you are wet.



A bed of dead leaves grace the ground,

a quick glance to the other side and we will not be found.

Symbionts in haste demand come close,

screams to me I can see you above the rest.

And through it all she seems secure.

Downward is heavenward, and we are not alone.

Head thrown back, a sickened sigh, her eyes shut,

Beelzebub can we do this without a net?