There was a rotting lace shroud

And down beyond the dark green grass of those two hills

A kiss, a chapel and the clink of chains

The sickly scar flickers over her right eye with,

A smile for the camera

And another for the pain.

Two become one and she is him

No, he is her a silver crescent shimmers over her eye

Now a friend giggles a sisterly hand laced into hers

The fun will begin.

Oh yes. The fun, how had she forgotten,

The silent secrets of the sheet which

Blood never washes out.

And later- when the crowds are gone

With a sigh wasn't that nice, another couple (the third this month)

Obeying and cherishing

With someone else's words.

She reclines as a double shadow on the wall

Her chains have a single link

And the gold glitters in the gas light.