Sin
© Copyright 2003 - Recherché Inamorato Productions

The sins drench our souls, holding us down as your fearful tongue gently passes over my voluptousness.
And you smother me in honey kisses with an arsenic mouth healing my wounds.
Dazzling beams causing skulls to smoke, watching you blink with a transfixed gaze on your twinkling eyes.
I feel born again as the hellfire from within your whispers overtake me, and I want to crawl into the oven to see if it's hot enough as these crystals grow colder.
When the hourglass screams of wasted time, we return to the spider's curse and your velvet blood devours the wickedness of razors that once comforted the desires of our flesh.
I watch feathers sparkle and dance on their journey to the fingertips of Hell, but you continue this sugar gaze even when the wings come crashing down around you, whole.
We become saturated with this ruby phantom and you still go on with iron kisses upon my forehead.
I feel safe in this gingerbread embrace as we unconsciously waltz at death's masquerade.
Inviting the sins from suicidal angels that fill us to the top with wonder, and they assure us that our coffins have been made cold with anguished mirrors from a past war.
Fathers stand by the bare creek, digging our graves as we torment and abuse a generation of still-born beauties.
Your love is strong while you push deeper, getting to know every square inch of my body.
Satan leaves his hellish abyss to be with me, for I am priviledged as the crucifix suffers with a silver bullet.
Acerbic affliction slays my virulent being in this sanctuary we have made.
And you are Satan, embellishing my virgin erotica; you are suffocating me with sweet rhythms, my diabolical savior.
Reality claws as dreams sing and looking up, I see that you are otherwordly; this decision is hard.
I shall be your countess in these dark chambers of horror with shrieks so scarring, as your innocence fades.
A hard days work is apparent through mutations that shimmer, and I acknowledge that ditches are open and waiting for the black ceremony.
Your sex is beautiful and luciously sinful, sticking needles of angel hair in my eyes.
And I long for your arsenic mouth once more to swallow me whole.