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.