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By blakey Date: 2006 Oct 24 Comment on this Work [[2006.10.24.21.47.27286]] |
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Her look, her form, her file, her grace Her eyes, her hair, the features of her face Amidst the crowds I continually pass The culmination of their features reconstructs the past Should I take the theme from Shelley’s pen Cultivating the dead to fashion her twin The physique would fulfill the memories I foster But without her soul, my creation, alas, a monster Ahhh, her skin, so soft, so pure, so white Silken to the touch, tantalizing to the sight For months I’ve been hungry, crazy with desire Starving for affection, my appetite will not tire Could it be that Stoker suffered a similar plight An eternal mate for his beast derived in one bite But can our love surpass the limits of time Knowing the heart is dead, that of hers and of mine A single lyrical sound from her lips doth escape Music to my ears, a breathe I dare not take A thread of jealousy from green eyes does come Sharing her with others, this I cannot succumb Remove her from the world, Leroux did compose Tunnels deep within my heart, my lair we must go To be caged and cared for, eternally confined Her body my possession, but never her mind Flesh upon flesh, bodies pressed until one Devouring organs, the flavor on my tongue Can one be consumed, till existence is wane The wanton feast of tissue, am I insane The ink of Poe, slither does the skin make Images of my lover, ghostly spirits may wake Perchance another exists, oer’ mountain or shore But encounter a love like hers, I think, nevermore |