You recoil from my aldehydes,
From my gigavolt promiscuity.
Am I so monstrous?
Your bluish lips so beautiful.
Do not deny me, dryad.
We are fated to be here together
Posed in this diorama,
Locked here together in the gothic,
You by your participation in the census,
Me by my profession.
My instructions are, Justine,
That your role is to suffer, mine to inflict.
Your choice, leashpet.
Will you acknowledge it as love?
Or must I be, to you, forever,
Just another soldier, following orders?