Will You Marry Me

Your face is smooth
        like the edge of a freshly wiped blade

Your skin is warm
        like teardrops in a steel morgue

Your hands are soft
        like linen sheets over pale, cool remains

Your hair falls to your shoulders
        with the accuracy of a weighty noose

Your stride is as confident
        as a blood-spattered Gladiator

Your legs send my heart
        into a state of hysteria with an assassin's efficiency

Never have I wanted so badly
        something so fearsome
        so bone-chilling


                Now tell me, my darling,
                that you feel the same.