Dischord, Salome, Severe Sickness

Her lips
Were doves that took light.
And hips, taut undulations
Kissing soft rotations, drew me
To her.
Sweet Salome,
What a vice.
She set
My nerves on ice in a whisper,
Until I crawled, lapped and begged her.
Just one night to bed her, show her
What a real man could do.
Sickly
Sweet Salome,
That venom bites.
It never understood my blood
But bodies intertwined
Were hers,
Not mine.
And never had I ever
Wished so hard
That on those bloody sheets,
She had laid to rest
This final deed.
Alas, my soul to Salome
Would never be.
I was left
To bleed.