Fetchmeamango - with Thinningveil  

"Fetchmeamango, sweet as a plum catch my smile with a kiss." In silence as I whispered to her remains. The fog crept across the tundra of my mind. Touched by her giddy-up and austere, bleeding. Pale as the ocean of dead men salts. As straight as the angle of a hypotenuse in her rigor mortis.  Resting with doubloons on Mother Superior's eyes. Trussed up like a cadaver on a body farm. On her way to the dark silo in the loft where the sloth dwells.  
   
Hearing voices, not knowing whether within or without, I shook my head. The mist was falling as the fog grew thicker, making imprints in the deep mire as my footsteps became heavier. I was determined my crime would be unsolved. This thought kept me moving as I dragged her rotting corpse behind me    
   
Hauntings of sins fleshing the skin with talons removing the stipends of her cod. Chewing a corpse at sundown in a satin dress washing away the pin and needles, leaving some bread on her chest. Grasping the soul of the crucifix in her transvestite regalia.    
   
Stopped, for a moment to lean down and whisper in her ear, the only one that remained. " Soon, my putrid pet, soon you'll have your final resting place"    
   
"Catch me as twilight hums from the hollow scrote of Mephistopheles in a macabre dance. Doing cartwheels around the Maypole. With my pillar of my aught erect, oozing. And that's the way of the Mangoat, in an orchard of mangoes. Falling.