Manson
 
             Marilyn
 
have treaded over
my headless loam
& blasphemous
are the lyric petals
                              red~rummed;
 
white liquored skin
dead
as my
dead skinned mask
weep in SS melancholy
for shackled is my deadbolt heart ~
you want to keep me     Forever;
 
but as ill perfumed
are the chrome colored scorpions
trenching an old diggers grave
so is the necrophilia body
that misbehaves against
the sickened of your touch,
for even Samhain
has shivered
in orgasmic
disgust;
 
in those post-mortem nightmares
where you blight on influenza wings
I've wept
& then
I was left                                 [behind]
to cower in those tears of rosary black;
for the weight
of your velvet tongue
still haunts me
as it once spun golds of silver
in the wee of bedtime hours
where thunder scathed
the storms in my defeated mouth;
 
hold me
             Manson,
kiss me
                Marilyn ~
 
I want to dance
with your Devil
in your
sweet[est] dreams
for who are    you
 
to disagree?