Mannequin

Burning flesh, Dripping sweat. Using them all, like the paralyzing snake. Charmed and enchanted by the Babylon whore. Led to other worlds, by the girls she curled within. I took their skins to see her! Be my, be my mannequin! Be my mannequin! I cannot remember, how it was that we first met. Curve of moon and haunted shore, the stars were not those Heaven sent. Did we come together at masked palatial balls, in silks and flesh and leather or did we come at all? I dreamt a midnight castle, the eerie song of wolves, and eyes that danced with fire as they have forever more. Our rites of sin, have long fathered a hymn. To burden him whom by slip of after whim. At Genesis, dressed her like the wind! In Autumn gowns that pinned her down, to be my, be my mannequin! Be my mannequin! Always poised on winter, but never would she break. My lovecraft and black witch heart, that pounded in her wake. We kissed on distant balconies, a law unto her own. Thirteenth dark commandment of figures pressed to stone. Turning cream with fantasies that God alone would know. We graced the Vomitorium with the sweet excess of Rome. Flagrant in the past! Our names were deeply carved, on the tree of life in long dead languages. Led to other worlds, by the girls she curled within. I took their skins to see her! Be my, be my mannequin! Be my mannequin! I tongued the nuns at Louviers, but not one word possessed. Her divine right, an archetype, for mortal Goddesses!