She stood in the center of the ring of fire
They gathered around, awainting impatiently for
the call
Some died in the restleness,
Ravaging each other’s bodies into a pool of
blood
The screams, the flesh bursting into blood –
crying red rivers of damnation at her feet – her hollywoodish red carpet
She wouldn’t call, no she wouldn’t
You see, she had the cards, and the cards can’t
lie the way people do
And who could bare not being worthy of her
touch?
She stood in the ring of fire, dealt five and
shuffled,
Over and over again, patiently waiting
And as the hunger consumed them, it consumed
her as well
But you see… She had patience.
You’d have to get an ace…
And not all aces were alike.
Each of them a different kind of game
Hearts for love, clubs for mercy, spades for
strength, gold for desire
But jokers were her favorite
Even though she’d never gotten one
She’d picture them in her mind, how marvelous
it would be
The ambivalent creature that would come out of
it, the marvelous death it would generate
How do you even give a death to someone who
wants it all?
How do you create contradictions?
No, she never got a joker
So she sat there, dealing her cards, patiently
waiting
Filling her soul with aces, watching the
numbers tare each other to dust in their insignificance,
Longing for the perfect death
The jester’s cock.
How she would give him head and his cum
dripping in her lips would be her fatal poison.
Juliet, Juliet… You should have tasted this one
You’d get to the afterlife with your mouth
full.
The ones who settle for aces will fall to
imperfection
But not her, she know the joker is in the deck,
she doesn’t settle for less than she deserves
What everyone should deserve…
A proper death.
