The Mistress of all that Remains

She’s a late-night poet’s creation inspired by vintage pop art, adult in nature, and a perfectly dangerous way to spend a Friday night. This Into the Darkness Radio Show airs December 10th on Blog Talk Radio. Join me for a live reading. All suggestions for improvement are welcome. Cheers!

Stop! This is the empire of death
and I am the mistress of all that remains,
the catacomb’s liveliest concubine.
Get lost in the labyrinth of muscles,
for tonight, bones will be exhumed.

Grab the reins, take a midnight carriage ride
into the unlit pass between my thighs;
inscribe on my softest surfaces
all that is scandalous and wise.

My fetish for filth is free,
just follow me into the darkness
through the ominous archways
adorning my chest,
grope the walls; it’s life or death.

Banish doubt, the deadliest disease,
and take heed, as I invite you to tunnel
through my galleries
to satiate a sepulcher of needs.

I’ll tie up your tibiae in neat little rows,
unveil my depths until you’re breathless,
and we collapse like wet stones
that drip until they end all worry
with underground forgetfulness.

Sleep with me forevermore in sickness
and never fret, my pets,
for fear is a facade arranged to please me,
the mistress of all that remains.

© khartless 2021, All Rights Reserved


    • “If we shadows have offended,
      Think but this, and all is mended,
      That you have but slumbered here
      While these visions did appear.
      And this weak and idle theme,
      No more yielding but a dream.”


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