She sits, and she’s pale and cadaverous,
her black hair, short to her chin, the dye in her skin,
the corpselike designs deify her to me,
and she is marvelous.
-
A snakebite in her voluptuous blackened painted lips
eagers me to receive a curious kiss
upon my own who so long for,
the taste of her, like nothing before.
-
The gorgeous permanent stains of ink
upon her bosom, thighs, arms, and calves,
exemplify her smooth pearl-white skin
her delicate tattooed knuckles and hands,
could now easily tear me in half.
-
As i try to look away
from that teasing, black lingerie,
she turns and looks with pale blue eyes,
the most wonderful I have ever seen,
so far into my soul she delves that I admit,
I am but a lowly, mortal being.
-
This Goddess of death, this Massacre Angel
what some call not a treasure,
she is in all my nightmarish dreams,
and I always owe her the pleasure.
-
I am a slave to her eyes,
that so easily peer through me,
it is not that I tread not, or wear disguise,
but the answer always eludes me.
-
Though she is my unholy holiness that
grants me dark in wretched light,
one day I shall pass and our spirits
will lay together for an eternity of
a macabre romantic night.