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
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Love this. Your imagery is wonderful and each word flows to the next with such skill. Great job! Oh yeah and it’s sexy too 😘
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Why thank you. I think she’s quite sexy. Think she could whip you into shape, no problem, should you meet up with her.
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This is lovely, K. Sensual and powerful. Love it.
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Thank you. Late night poetry is satisfying. I’m worrying less and enjoying it more each time.
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You’re welcome. Always. I’m glad this is so; it’s enjoyable for us all. Happy weekend, K.
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Yikes..
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“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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Excellent!!!
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Ty.☺️
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a fascinating, frolicsome fever of a poem 🙂
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Many thank, John. I like her. She is striking and scary, but in a good way, if that’s possible.
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she fits the poem well as though the poem were first and she an artist’s impression —
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It’s true, I’d written about this mistress residing in the Paris catacombs; this print brought her out of the journal pages, and definitely added to her.
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Well, she’d certainly liven things up in the catacombs!
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Ha! Yes, indeed. Perhaps not the first to party there, though. 🙂
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