Acapella Dripping

Pale porcelain flesh once a cherub now she isn't.
Craving the altar, hearing voices in the shadows
approaching her naked anatomy. Going limp in
Mother's Superior's arms of a depraved cold moon
rising with dichotomous hermaphrodites and
corpse eaters of decadent souls. Pleasuring the
advocacy of something dead's acapella dripping the
blood's stigmata. Shooting up the veins hoping for
a lollipop. Thanking it screen test for a low-budget
pornographic movie. "I like the way you walk
and all the things that you do."