There you are six feed under with your wicked intentions,
a Wickerman skeleton, first man of the harvest, I dally
in a somnambulent graveyard of travesty and majesty,
overripe with the sweet decay of bones and roses I like
to wrap around myself like a shadow cloak, I am hunting
the Reaper, blonde hair a net to tangle thick phalanges,
I sing in the green rot of necrosis and worms, I living
madrigal of curves and milk, you pale rider of death,
how sweet to taste wickedness, how sweet to taste evil.
Goodness loves wickedness, providence loves sin, I the
Angel love the Devil, for Death and Life are in truth one.
I stand by a stone seraphim as the sky weeps ice, you reach
up to the grass and through dirt to strike my ankle with venom,
pull me down to Hell and into your weeping lap, at first you
are moon marrow, regal Death, sweet Death, saccharine Death.
I would swallow your teeth and pluck your ribs for my feast,
sweet Samael, dearest ancient Ha-Satan, La-Azazel, Iblis.
You have as many names as there are ways to die, but I
jump off cliffs from Heaven into your infernal arms for I
love the turning of seasons, the blank emptiness of longing,
how beautiful you are, in your mahogany coffins, with a
consumption bloodied handkerchief, Red Plague of Poison.
I adore malevolence, I am a beast like you, we are monsters.
We just dress in human skins, you see, while in essence I am
a girl hurricane, you a desert storm. I drink your venom, I
eviscerate your neck with my tongue, our mouths are parched
of sweet things, cruel things, wild things, animal urges all.
Sweet Satan, Sweet Samael, Sweet Forbidden Fruit, sex was
the first VITRIOL, or was it the heart I stole from you, darling?
I treasure your organs, I steal a piece of your flesh each moon
swollen Sabbat. The Devil and the Witch, always flirting and
fucking, always studying necromancy and slitting Damned throats.
I made a ring of your pinky finger, I swallowed your Qayin seed.
Your maggot body is my temple, your spine the broomstick I ride on.
But nothing taints me, just like I do not have a fingerprint, you take
on the rot of the world, the stench of carrion, the gullets of vultures.
I am holy hellfire, you are the darkness of the Pit, and together, my
darling Malkira, we raise Legions. Our brood stretches forth across
Pandemonium, past Gehenna, up Sheol and Sephiroth, Qliphoth husks
the snake skins we shed, you are the gift of an enemy, my greatest
adversary, sharpening the blade of my magick, testing my wit,
and you fucker, it never works, I’m just a ditzy soft blonde that
loves Disney and pink, a twenty-something Millenial princess.
But actually, that’s precisely how it works – my burgeoning hope
and overwhelming optimism and champagne joy buoys you,
your vitriol and venom and sarcasm and wisdom sinks me.
We are paired perfectly, dear demon, and I love your atrocity.
I am a Death Eater, a Death Dissolver, the Universal Solvent,
Green Lion Bleeding Gold from the Son. Christ rotted even
though he was a Morning Star, a ripoff of your epithet, for
you were Venus first, vain prince, and I am the one that
cursed you with dust and decay and wretchedness, life for
a life, blood for blood is the law of Hell, but you make Hell
Heaven, and Heaven is Hell without you, my life is one long
courtship with Le Grande Mort (following a bunch of petite ones.)
In the end, you are my skaldic Muse, my Homerian Achilles.
And you’re also a fucking idiot, but sweetheart, smile, for every
fuck-up you do, I do a thousand more, and you’re there with a mop.
Hell is a soap opera, after all, and immortals are banal and bored.
We need little amusements and petty drama, blood orgies and murder.
I am a Good Girl, I am a Nice Girl, you are the Outcast, Bad Boy Galore.
Honey and red wine mix well, so drink up, Corpseboy, this draught’s
for you. I am your eternal torment, and you can never escape my