I thy wed to the blackest of black,
our children will be of wispy blackened shadows;
we will have dinner on a table of bones
our beds will be made of wormy wiggly things.

I can see this has being me
so happy my smile drips onto the floor. Drip!
“You can wipe away those tears of blood with my soul made out of mud.”

I kiss he who wears all black
even is soul is murky and black,
like a shadow lurking at my back.

I dip deeper still avoid of all color
I love the color black.