Impulsion - with fianaturie8

Chained to headboard's quill
and corseted winter's chill
Memento in patent leather
of the cod listening ears.
 
Sweat and tears roll as rivulets
coating the satin down to the duvets
No cries would beseeched
as the entrance was breached.
 
Surrendering in layers of soul  
to the shadow that lingers  
Of the tick and bee
and two fingers of the atheist.  
 
Condemned by our own accord
moving with purpose we cannot afford
Swirling petulance of desire and hate
welcoming arms embrace this fate.
 
With benign dark withers  
arousing the twilight pluck  
Of Sodom's archaeology  
in books gathering dust.
 
Forward we move
with unrelenting grace
Indulging gluttonous tastes
of mementos in patent leather.