Skull; crimson; velvet;

I will
dance you into a depth of
my mind I am afraid of.
I will
put on a record and
play the objects in darkness of
chains and slave-drums and
I will
let myself cry to you,
interject your beauty with
the dark and cold
and the sweet music, until it is
too much and I fall at your feet,
a vision struck clown.
I will
not fear; I will not grant you
the right of refusal.
(And when were you ever asked?)
You will accept and contain my fears;
I will
safeguard my ugliness with you
and for once we both
will be beautiful.

And we shall wake up;
Dead or otherwise