The red lipped mistress in my dark dreams
checks my pulse before the ritual and readies for the scene
She checks my skin for wounds to sew and for hair to glean
She looks for naughty fingerprints to clean

She lets me gulp down the drink she literally put her heart into
She anxiously asks me if I enjoyed it, that drink made of heartly goo
Her bloody gift entertains me
it takes form inside me and roams free
Her nervous fingers cut my skin in parallel lines
then her mouth devours the warmth of our mixed up bloodly wines

The red lipped mistress' ritual is through
She cleans the skin that before her kiss was pink but now has turned to blue
I give my word to never tell 'bout the holes in my skin and her mark in my head
She nods in trust but still decides to sew my lips with thread