The vague
yet clear bare beauty
of her bone face and cadaverous appearance.
Her eyes as shadow at midnight.
The horrid beauty of her pale skeletal hands.
And in her nails sparks of the dark universe.
Her black silken hair
woven by the maggots.
Her head
crowned with the jewel
of the night.
*
The remainder of her decaying skin
is icy as snow.
Soft and delicate as milk.
The colour as wan as ashes.
Her garment tough and leathery
as wings of the bat
cloaks her body.
*
Neither the serpent nor the raven
has her beauty.
Yet she acclaims their sadistic cruelty.
Their greed for shining eyes
and the taste of sweet
delicate maidens ankles.
*
She rests upon the graves of men
and pauses within the vaults.
Weaving masterfully her mischaped garments
and throwing them to the spiders.
Tending beds of Deadly Nightshade.
Stroking both wolf and demon.
*
Caressing man
as she passes.
Agonizing and crippling them.
Then she kisses
with red smeared lips.
Crushing their breath
and creasing their hearts.
As only a perfect
Black Rose would.