Saturday, May 2, 2009

The Ripper

Her coarse skin sailed across my chest
And soaked my harborous lips.
Cold, quivering fingers, craving
Pastries of their own,
Crawl over my body, screaming
Yearning for a second death.

With my honest stare I pierced
Her sugar-coated eyes,
Grasped from deep within my shroud
A redeemer of the lost.
Then played Demeter on her crust
And made a waterfall of Sin.

I loosed the candy apples from
Beneath her tangled veins,
And savored sliced confections
Of her rich ambrosial skin.
Giggling, all while whispering:
You are free, my dear;
You are free in me.

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