You are always begging for one more moment. Hunger is never sated, thirst never quenched, and always you plead me to leave you with one last drop to wet your eager lips. What more may I offer to you, treasure, than that which has always been yours? How many more minutes like hours, my body like bread and wine? I am oceans but you will not drown. I am gales but your lungs will not be filled. Moon and Sun and stars in your eyes, and I all the darkness which binds them together. Devourer and devoured, annihilation in exhalation. One more taste, yes, then be off.