My Halloween Bride

What I loved most about my first ex-wife was her hair, red as the fires of hell to which she consigned me.

What I miss most about my second ex-wife is her eyes, dark as the night sky, gleaming in the knife light.

For my third ex-wife, it's her legs, a dancer through college, a siren in a splattered skirt.

And the ex-girlfriends could fill an epic, ten assorted exquisite fingernails, all with my skin underneath.

And then there was this stripper... I need not mention what I miss about her.

All together these collected pieces formed the perfect muse, thawed out and stitched together like a rag doll.

I still remember when the lightning struck, I screamed and so did she, though for different reasons.

All my years of painful work, finally came together in a masterpiece, inspiring such poetry and devotion

I could not let her leave my castle but she escaped and I haven't seen her since. Until maybe tonight,

when a new dancer appeared on the stage, not an inch of untattooed flesh visible and she refused

to even pick up my dollar.