[Spoken introduction and poem]

This is Tammy Taste-Test taste-testing one, two, three. Yes, everyone, I’m back from the dead, I am undead, Tammy Taste-Test does really live despite those wonderful rumors. I’ve come to you tonight from beyond the grave to read to you my newest piece, reminding you to come see the show at limelight on Halloween night. Now I present, Natasha:

Natasha has a dream of his body
Perched on the narrow rim of desire
She’s etching grace on borrowed time
When her goals supersede all men
And she searches the skies
For the answers her body will not provide
She is the angel, the goddess
And you wanna have her for your own

She’s purity in the wreckage
Of neon cemeteries and concrete trees
Others felled by their transparency
Their beauty felled by drama
Their lies fouled by their creative self-burials

But Natasha dreams of him
Her sleep the consciousness of the unfulfilled
She is the house to dwell in
She is your gate to heaven

What color is the dawn?
Hate-color, brown and poison purple
Her nudity is a somber smell that curls like smoke from every pore
And Natasha fears the torment that descends every time she indulges
Her favorite poison fetish: whispering his names
Her penance done, for sin begun
Before she learned to kneel, to feel his weight
His hate upon her soul
She’s saving up for implants, but you can’t have life implanted, baby!

This is an exercise in undead feelings
They slide into the chambers of her heart
Love is the gun built for one to shatter skeletal lives

Knife-like kisses, steaming brows, and lashes like aroma
Natasha is the exulted model of your [feckoned] morals and your sloppy drag
When her base pleasures are within her grasp
She reduces all men to animals her will would enslave

She is the diva
You want to feel her claws upon you
She whispers you her flavors
Manipulating your conscience
Preparing it for violation

But her drama, cautionless and clever
Is calling to his wicked heart
Others happy killers, dripping, drooling minds
And choking, choking her with their ten-cent fantasies

Natasha smiles, fascist and alluring
Her mind a flesh, hardened
She smiles without screaming
Be numb, succumb Natasha
Just act natural as he takes his first bite
Diamond hard, the price of pain is a curse upon his lips
Her lips were not designed to speak those words to him
Scandalous and velvet clad she’s prancing before him
“Fuck me gently with your eyes,” he says
Eyes spill cold upon the soul you had hidden in a plastic slip cover
His raunch is thick and saturating
A thirsty fountain spewing salt
She is ionized by lust

In this sudden human zoo she is drenched in the gore of lovers lost
She is stainless steel, her skull a go-go cage at the death that overcomes her
Natasha says, “I have no tears for you my God, you’ve made my love a blasphemy
And in all this, in this human habit trail of misery, still I have no shame
In this dance club cauldron viscous with your vice, still I have no shame
This is the maternity ward for everything unholy and insane
I give to you my precious gift.” Natasha screams
“What you hate about yourselves!”

Apocalypse rides in on tailored hooves
Stripping her conscience bare
Would she buries herself beneath morality
And forgets herself for the sake of man
Her heart chilled to numbness
Natasha has become the whore:
That flexible fallacy of the human desire
And he wants to be her now

With tears of kerosene she kisses her bruises
And makes them armor, now she’s coming for him
Killing [shords] like fetish toys
The lady of the Underworld fist-fucks yet another passerby
As she smiles once again, fascist and alluring
And licks her barbed wire bracelet clean
In this polite nightmare the air about her is mocking us with tard glamour
And so is she
Her skin the floor on which you dance, her breath your fetid winds
She’s mocking us from your empty shells. She’s fucking us in private hells
Good night to you all from Tammy Taste-Test, this has been a little less than romantic interlude, bitchy bedtimes to resume sometime soon, see me at limelight Halloween. *kiss*