I Do Not Support These Views; I Felt Compelled to Write This Poem However

by Ann Neilson

Haunting melodies tinkle;
tender strokes upon blue chapped lips,
gentle caresses across hollow cheeks,
warm eyes peering into a cold gaze.
Bodies brush, passionately,
moans envelope the dark space,
the bed rattling, the sound of metal filling empty space.
The body-on-body ballet has finished,
and although a one-sided dance
she could feel he felt the same satisfaction she had received from him.
Carefully she recovers the white sheet he had been laying under,
and intertwining her fingers with his,
she lays upon his boney chest,
listening to the beating of his undead heart.

Please let me know what you think.

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