beauty cult / spider hacksaw / ©2013


Your beauty bleeds me, Your beauty seeds in me
It needs me not, but still it feeds from me,
eating me alive, from the inside out
It forces its way into me, the bowels of my skull cave,
smashing itself through my baby blues
It cracks into my slice of nice, smattering me
with such kind and delicate
articulate malevolent
vice

I can not hide from it, I can not fight it
I hear it, I smell it, I taste it inside
It gets into my house through the holes in my head
it invades my home, through my attic-eyes
my addict attic-eyes and
i can’t keep them closed from the plight of you,
from the marauding wroughting sight of you
I can not defend myself against the onslaught of you
your ravishing infinite brightness, the shape, the sound, the pale of you,
your raw beauty-noose slithers around my neck, it hangs me
and I choke on your spectral nectar, your juicy god-flesh
I am crippled by the plague of you,
i am trampled and made lame by you

Your beauty infiltrates my bastion
your beauty gets inside and preys upon me,
again and again it gets within, wreaking its pleasant havoc,
it rips the breath from my lungs,
it tears the screams from the cage of my paperweight soul
leaving me crucified and speaking in forked tongues,
your beauty fingers me, it digs itself into me
and plows blades through my wrinkled cognitive meat,
planting the crops of you deep down into my cavernous vault,
where it hunts and grinds, and enshrines itself,
your beauty is my cult, and I am its sacrificial fatted calf
it gathers and scatters everything aimless,
so that nothing else matters except you,
then it searches, and reaches, turmoil turning,
toiling and tilling my sovereign soil into its goblin garden,
where nothing can grow except you

it infects me, it infests me, it wrecks me,
ransacking me for something it needs
Your beauty is so crucial, your beauty is so unreal
Your beauty burns, but it does not feel,
It bends me, unkindly, it twists my mental metal
as shame and twine
your beauty exists only
to hunt and grind

Your beauty is a thief, your beauty is a vandal
It riddles my whole with holes, It unravels my tapestry
It gobbles and devours the paste of me
drinking my thinking to the very last drop of me
Your beauty savages me with its wild scar-fire,
it ravages all of me, for all to see,
for all to see all of me

then it captures and bottles my reedy red muck daub
then it takes it and rattlesnake-shakes it, and rapes it,
my red burgundy blood-globe bauble
and with devout surgical implementation
it plucks the scant kernel of love that I hide, and pilfers it,
leaving me a mottled smear
leaving me a gutted hollow
an abandoned blackened tomb
a chrome shard of hard buzzard tart,
tossed aside to a pile, on a bleak fissured path
leaving me, a collapsed carnival clown
who once upon a time
entertained your beauty’s sin
who can never entertain
your beauty again

Your beauty is a vandal, your beauty is a thief
and I the shrunken carcass
dashed ashore
upon its teeth

________________________________________________
( beauty cult )(©) (by spider hacksaw) (copyright 2013)
(thou shalt not covet)

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