Inviting

There's something inviting ,
When you ask how I like it.
Roses drop petals,
As winter sets in.

There's something inviting,
When you bite my lip,
Frost freezes the ground,
That we once made our bed.

There's something inviting
about your deadly silence,
Or maybe it's mine,
The deafness seems to blend.

There's something inviting,
About words spilled on pages,
Ink stained hands,
And lips blood red.