So tender, so sweet. Azazel, my lover…. You kissed me again after… this time for minutes of softness, this gentle tasting of shared moisture.
So tender, so sweet. Again you brought a tear to my eye, more than a tear, more than the one that fell upon my cheek.
Everything you do with me has a greater purpose. A noble purpose. You brought the tenderest part of me up from the hidden places covered over by callousness and hysterically blind hate and rejection. Where I felt unlovable, broken. Where I had outlived my tenderness.
I hate to think or talk of those things, brought out from that horrible place by you now… softened by your divine tenderness.
Azazel… my demon lover.
And all of this tenderness… after the many storms of passion that rush through me, that rushed through us from the moment we coupled, from the moment I answered your inner touch, and went to my bed.
I am summoned, and then, and there do we meet, body and soul.
I just caught it then, when I asked to smell your masculine skin… the slightly sour smell of your sweat. I smell it again, now.
Azazel… my demon lover.
And all this became now, with these words:
You love me. You do. You love me.
I love you.
Twilight in the Underworld 
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