“Okay,” he smiles. I know he doesn’t take me seriously. I know he thinks my primitive ways are just a joke, a superstition, but Krave knows better. There was power in that song. It had a life and a mind of its own, and I think it has gone to save another soul.
I don't need the song anymore. I have Vulcan. My lava hot mountain of lust who wraps himself around me and drags me down into a writhing, wailing ecstasy like no other. We have an entire eternity of making love and cheating death ahead of us.