It could have been anyone, but it was somebody. A dark night, a street; he emerged as witchcraft. Everything I needed, but I didn't know. Mysterious and impetuous, without saying a word, he took me as his own. The naked sword blossomed my flower. Fear and desire. Guilt and impulse. Being possessed in secret. Intense. Immense. Deep. Hot, sharp and humid. Only I moaned, only I suffered and laughed. Scared and in love. Flood...