Towards siren song I saunter on,
A lust so right, a love so wrong.
Into her arms, as good as dead,
Her kiss sinks deep and blood flows red.
Into her blouse and down her skirt,
I feel no pain, it does not hurt.
My life drips off of onyx lips.
My fingers tremble and eyes eclipse.
Her raven nails that dug and scratched,
Grab a smoke and light a match.
Oh, garter belt with nylon hose,
A blood stained bra revealed from clothes.
Her heaving chest and curves that cut,
Thick hips which sway and legs that strut.
Her body moves in sinful grace
Yet on her lips, my death I taste.
I look away. I try to run.
I’m feeling faint. I’ve come undone.
But she persuades, like loaded gun;
“Oh no, my dear. We’ve just begun…”
