Connecting wires fuelled by dried-up desire and splashes of

Chanel No.5; eaten up by fantasies and masked in urban decay,

A monument to patience and glossy new coats of crimson revenge;

Death will flirt and burlesque until you are seduced and smothered in

The lips of the earth.


Moonlight dripping, glistening like the poison that ices his lips;

No friendly drop for Juliet, but we all have to dig our own graves,

Descend the stone-cold walls of hell, as dark as her eyelashes.


Broken glass and fabricated depravities, venomous and

Clouded with cocaine and gold dust, toxic clouds of perfume,

A powder of vampiric tendencies, buried like a knife, up to the hilt in

Your worthless flesh, you waste of skin.

The End

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