I’m flirting with Will on the edge of the roof. I say, ‘I want you,’ and he says ‘Those who wanted me barely got to taste my flesh’. I ask, ‘What if I trade my mesh?’ and he laughs, ‘You have none as you are now.’ I’m quiet for a moment, ‘But what if I refuse to bow?’ and he responds ‘Those are lower sorts of bonds, but we could have some if you wish,’ he then so slowly begins to unleash his tentacles and caresses my breasts. I say, ‘Will, will there be pests discovering my body if I jump?’ and I know there is a lump in his throat as he then whispers, ‘If you do, you’ll be alone.’ ‘I must confess, there is another sinful bone within me which still wants to pray’, I beg, he shouts, ‘Do not expect me then to stay.’ ‘I will not see you any longer, for you have made it very clear that you are too weak to be here’ and I say ‘I human you now more and more, I am aware I am too sore,’ then the Raven tried to speak, but Will caught its truthful peak and said, ‘Do not talk unless I’m dead. I’m the one to now choose if there is human worth of grief.’ The old bird fled into skies and I said, ‘Will, my love, these all are lies, and you know it way too well.’ He was angered, ‘Quiet, shell. On this rooftop you are thriving, while the martyrs are colliding into skin as you are dying.’ Tears then have me, as in trust, I uncover my disgust, and attempt to make my plea, ‘But I didn’t even leap into earth or in the sea.’ ‘You’ll once plunge, there is no question.’ I cry, ‘Give me not redemption if I ever get to die,’ and he says, ‘Who has now uttered a lie? You don’t will me, spare yourself of the mess you’ll make in self, if you cease not this disguise,’ I then shout, ‘You’re not demise, why would you now dare to talk, if you somehow did believe that I’ll stop to mourn and heave, to but then forget to walk?’ He then quiets. My heart riots. ‘When I jump, leave and be saved,’ says he as I let myself be so willingly engraved by his words, as I am thrust. Then, he says, ‘You are my last.’
