She wore her red shoes to Romeos funeral
and misssed the stale smell of his cheap cologne
and that his lips had always tasted of whiskey
she picked up a card and some flowers and a strange ballon
for $29 and some spare change from the drug store
on Kentucky Ave. where someone had stolen
her favorite alligator purse
somewhere in the distance a train pulling box cars
whistled to the magpies with their wings spread up above
just hanging there like kites
and she wore a pretty blue gun strapped to her thigh
right over where he had left his teeth marks on the forth of July
the one he had given her on the Valentine's day
he had spent in jail for attempting to rob the jewelry store
for the necklace she had wanted for Christmas
the December before
the same Christmas all he could give her
was his favorite skull and crossbones ring
tied around the broken piano string
he had once tried to wear as a tie  
they had meet the night he stole her record player
and she had happened to be on the wrong side of the road
as he made his way from the scene of the crime
completely unaware she would steal his heart
before he would see another sunrise
but that was all before he took a bullet to the chest
after avenging his brother that was left to die
without his knife
they had found his body in the theater
with his shoes full of blood and a smile on his face
and she knew as his body was lowered
into the cold cold ground her new favorite color was going
to be blue come next Valentine's day

He wore a mustache below his crooked nose twisted into handlebar shaped antlers and he spoke through his teeth with lies he stole from the devils lips on a night full of the bloodletting of lust and the strands of his beard where frozen swirls of black smoke hanging from the bottom of his outer jawline and there was dark magic spinning tales in the carmel brown of his eyes and she knew not a single truth hung there in the air seperating their hungery mouths and could taste the fire within his lungs before their tounges tangled and as they kissed she pulled out his soul and stole his fire and his breath and slipped her hands through his ribs and gently squeezed her fingers around his heart and with a swift flick of her wrist carved her intials in his pulse and he was wrapped around the desire and arch of her spine and he abandoned his dreams and his hopes and swore over his heart to the voyage of her ship and exploration of the seas and storms of her love and tied his wrist to the mast and spoke an unbreakable vow to forever sail under her name and her crown through this life and through the bones of his death and should he rise again wander the lonely shores until he found her seas and ship and heart and would then be hers again

He had a mouth fool of lies buried behind his mischievous grin and bad intentions waiting in the palms of his fingertips and he walked on two feet but slithered all the same and there was something of a snake coiled in the green of his eyes and he bought three shots of poison to fill the hollow spots of his teeth sharpened and shaped into fangs and left behind a trail of smoke and tears as he walked out onto the street at the hour that smelled of innocence just stepping into town...
She was fresh off the boat and two steps off the bus with a heart full of hope and a head full of dreams and fire streaked golden hair that was all under the protection of a wide rimmed yellow sun hat and her skirt was closer to her ankles than her knees and she wore quite black shoes and solid white stockings and her blouse was plain and simple and revealed little for the imagination to explore and she stood their with the cliché picturesque backdrop of the american dream as the bus rumbled then roared and rolled out of sight...
He had the nose of a blood hound and the heart of a snake and she was a pretty bird singing a song and as small as a mouse with big wide smilng eyes and he had a bait in his pocket and a trap in his jaws and spoke softly and kind leaving his venom to flow silently through the air while wraping and seeping into her skin and she smiled and laughed a deep and clean and genuine  laugh and mentioned she was a peck hungery and needed a the name of an upright and honest hotel with clean sheets on clean beds with well read bibles on the nightstands and he spilled out more poison than truth and said he loved the book and knew a place not too far to sleep that he had even himself stayed at when he first got into town a heartbreak or two before and his favorite twenty four seven day a week dinner was just around the corner which was the only truth he could ever tell and they walked in and took a seat and she smelt what she thought must be magic cooking in the back and stirred stars and sugar and cream into her coffee and they talked back and forth and forth and back as hours passed and he let out a yawn and she apologized for talking too much and he smiled knowing the trap was set and she asked with sincerity and hope if he would walk her to the place he knew and it all almost seemed to easy and he guided her down one street then another and she held his hand along the way and to his surprise an alley before his own she pulled him into the dark and shyly whispered she knew she shouldn't ask but she wanted to know what it was like to kiss such a handsome man that looked a little like he could be mistaken for the devil but before he could oblige her request she had one other favor to ask and that was would he wear her yellow hat because her momma told her never trust a man who wasn't willing to look silly to make her laugh and so he did and before he could scream the hat had chewed and swallowed him down to his knees and by the time it was done all that was left was half a shoe lace and a tooth full of venom and she picked up the tooth and placed it in her purse and patted her hat and placed it back on head and giggled and cackled and laughed as she faded into the night and took her seat back on the bus

Whisper of your ***** little secrets with your pretty little lips
Tell me of your dark delights kiss after kiss
Undress your sinful story and leave its dust jacket on the floor
Wrap me in your hidden pleasures while you pull your skirt above your hips
Drag out my hearts temptation to the surface of the lust within my skin
Its impossible not to love you while under the spell of your charms of wickedness
Melt away inhibitions and moral and marrow and bone and leave nothing but carnal rage desperate for gratification at the brink of death
Leave not a trace of soul or virtue before we tumble into flight and fall and crash over the edge of no return
And secrets shared become secrets kept
Locked beneath hidden memory
of hearts flesh and dream
Where nothing done in love
Is remembered as unclean

she had a poem where her soul was suppose to be and the pupils of her eyes had been carved out from the black void before the beginning of time
she knew more than any man or woman or god and only ever lost at anything when playing checkers and
tic-tac-toe with children
there was an intricate and gentle song that hummed in the depths of her heart and her blood flood with the slow ease of the last drop of honey from a jar
an unending kindess flowed from her gaze and she was continuously looking for those in the most need
she existed within the fabric of dreams and the horizon of eternity
and the beauty of love was an endless fairytale tattooed along
the curves of her spine
she has walked quietly through your dreams and gathered all the tears of heartache and grief you have ever shed and turned them into stars and moons and wishes of good tidings
she is there everytime you fall in love and and everytime your heartbreaks and it is with strands of her hair that she stiches the broken pieces back together and whispers sweet words of hope to chase away the feelings of despair
and you know her by
a name you will never speak in
a language you will never know
and when dreaming
you can always hear
your heart reading
her poem to your soul

She was unforgivably beautiful
in a way that killed his heart
every time she walked past
and he fell to silence
and lost his dreams
and died inside the shy moments
that overwhelmed him
in the presence
of her unforgivable beauty

Uncomfortable silence is the only comfort I know and it is always screaming in my ear

She was thigh high silk lined poetry wearing **** me stiletto heels with words that slowly drizzled from burning wickedness made of lust and wax and her fingernails carved whispers of desire along his spine and split open the seams of his simple wants and filled him with desperate needs and he was completely consumed with a hunger to peel off the poetry she wore over her skin with her lace and lingerie and she poisoned his reason with her venomous lips and she molded and carved his flesh into hard wood and turned him into her marionette and tied him with leather whips and controled his every move and made his fingers and tounge explore the space between the words along her thighs and he wrote his name along her silken verse of vice and she pulled his strings hard and made him need her just a little more and somewhere in the blur of blood and sweat he became forever hers

He hung himself from a rope
he made of  the silver lining  
from the cloud he filled
with his dreams of her
And he died with a smile on his face
stained by the tears of regret
for the love he never spoke of

Is it the sleepless heart or the restless mind or the beauty of the dream you paint upon my bedroom ceiling that has me lost in this empty bed filled with pools of sweat of untamed and untouched desire
Let me kiss the innocence off your cheeks and wander in the lust of your eyes
You are all my prayers of heaven and consume my every thought of sin
I want to be bound between the leather covers of your book
and be tied to its spine with thread
I want to swim in your words and soak into your every passion and leave my fingerprints and stains on every page
Let me read the secret verse
and let me go falling into love
until my heart is no longer mine

The scent of a pretty pink flower bloomed under her  love red lips
And there was only a small hint of poison in her devilish smile
and something that held a little piece of hell and heaven swaying in her hips
And he found a lustful need in his wanting of desire
And questioned if they would find anything other than sin under the tears of the pale blue moon

It had been such a long time since I had been able to look at someone so hauntingly beautiful that I cut away the soft pieces of air to frame the memory of the moment
I swam through eternity in a single breath and was forever lost in a
flood of dreams born from the
madness in the colors of her eyes
She glowed with the magic of moonlight and her hair danced with
red flames from the sun
I had no were else I could go and helplessly I fell into a bottomless ocean of love
I drowned over and over again dying in dreams of stardust and dissecting the the delicate silk robes of each death while being haunted by her grace and beauty

Whisper to me of soft sins
and hard moans
I want to know
who you are in the dark
When you are naked and alone
I want to feel the stain
of your wet kisses
up and down my kneck
Push me onto my back
and carve your name
into my chest
Sink your teeth
into the corner
of the inside of my thigh
There is no pain
when I have the pleasure
of being in the reflection
of the carmel desire in your eyes
Pull me under the secret universe
you hide in the mad love
within the pulse
and rhythm of your stars
Drown my breath in the colors
and pallet of the beauty
of your blood red lips of lust
Leave the scent
and taste of your flower
To haunt the eternal hunger
you have seared
into the marrow of my bones
It is only by the warmth
of your breath
that I can enjoy death
and rise and die again

She was the soft spot of a dream
the cherry at the end of the stem
on top off a whipped cloud of lush lust
and whisperd desire
the sticky and the sweet and the drip
of the blood of honey  
the fire of temptation dancing in the devils tounge
the promise of heavenly pleasure
hiding in an angels lips
the kiss of poisoned silk from a spindle lost in time
that stitched forever to tragedy to loss to love to eternity

In the solitude of lonely rage dreams scatter beneath translucent skin in graphite lines and watercolor pans and tubes of paint spread by the course hairs of a worn out brush held by fingertips weathered and craked and stained with acrylic ink and blood and ***** spill into the wasted hours of pornographic procrastination as hands are busy stroking everything but ego and ambition and time has no need for patience or excuses and moved at its own pace despite the moving gears of the cuckoo clock trying to convince it otherwise and only mankind would be foolish enough to try to claim time can be measured and trapped and strapped to a wrist to cover up the color of thoughts of suicide and the bruises of wasted desperation as the tick tick tock of the bird inside the clock waits in lonely rage for its hour of desperation