DANCE OF THE MACABRE

A kiss from the cold steel

on the sweat soaked skin

--the dance begins.

The prayer for release

sent out as a scream,

only to be answered

by an image in a dream.

Caress of blades

send a tingle of death

from the menacing sound

of gritty playtime.

The delicate gouges

along tender flesh:

the deeper the mark

the deeper the bliss.

Reality and fantasy blur

by the sharp sting of pain

--matched an orgasmic flash

of the wanton slaughter.

A twisted scene

of lust gone awry;

tangle of dismembered limbs

on the spilled scarlet of satin sheets

--the dancers fall.

08/23/03