"One must desire something to be alive."
- Margaret Deland
Her opal eyes would mesmerize and make you realize,
That the heavenly skies are lost amongst her thighs,
Kissing morals goodbyes, trapped within her disguise,
I sensationalize, "She's worth more than a nobel prize,"
But in my line of business it made problems arise.
You see...
Julie glowed like a star in the sky that's gone awry,
Indeed she shot right past me in the midst of July,
Anxiously waiting, hoping to somehow escape her DWI,
It was in that blink of an eye that my throat grew dry,
Seeing this alabaster beauty spread naked before me,
Now I know what you're thinkin, but I wasn't just horny...
As quenching my desire for her made me feel so alive,
Not just my sex drive, but what she did was revive,
My carnal presence exploiting me with incandescence,
No longer doomed to fade and vanish via evanescence,
Yet the whole course of the intercourse was forced,
So for this firey pheonix I left my morals divorced,
I kissed at her lips, yet it was never returned,
Indeed she was dry, but my hungry temptation yearned,
To taste the sweet nectar of this innocent beauty,
Indeed it seemed tasting her became my civic duty,
Yet as I tasted her she still lay there refusing me,
So I lapped at her flower although unconducively,
No matter though my saliva would still get her wet,
Another conquest that tempted me with her silhouette,
That's why alone that night I would pump and sweat,
In search of a release, followed by a cigarette,
At the end of the day, she just lay there still,
A butterfly beauty whose expression was shrill.
It was perfect...
She joined the list of many girls on a date with fate,
I carved out her organs, I have no need to procreate,
I kept her heart, when pumping it I felt her passion,
Her lust for vanity, glamour, cocaine, and fashion,
And when I carved out her mind and savored the flavor,
I could taste her nubile desires and as a party favor,
I sucked the eggs from her tubes to eat as caviar,
Alone in the night, just Julie, me, and my guitar,
Perfection for me, which to you might seem so bizarre.
Sitting, basking in the calm before the coming storm,
I removed the vacuum that I had used to transform,
Her once youthful frame into a shell of skin and bone,
Letting it drip, as I washed her body of cheap cologne,
Proceeding to delicately piece her torn flesh whole,
To avoid the family freaking like they did with Nicole,
Nicole's story is for another time and another place,
As I worked tediously to erase the look upon her face.
That morning...
Like clockwork the police arrived at about 10:45,
I told them she was the victim of a drink & a drive,
The rest was procedure, I certified the time of death,
Indeed it wasn't even 9 when she took her last breath,
I, the lonely mortician, got to pay the last respects,
One must truly desire something to enjoy the sex.