In front of the row

Style. Shh. Be still. Like a lie.
Fake your play on a grande scale
And let us
Be the tracery of your fey
We will be humming your red lips
Like a sad violinist
We would be
Beaming the eardrops of your jewelry
Like
Lucifer for he died his night black
Like we, unsew sequins to bring the classical black back
"It's not outta date, I'm just being fashionable late"
Like a cat on a walk, mysteriously, she says,
hot-furred luxury:
"Follow me through my steps", she says
"I will be stripping for pleasure in a cloackroom, & we’ll be receiving soon
The 80’s aesthetics covered in leopard skin
And boudurist dresses dressed up in wicked satin
Heat-pressed metallics for souvenir uniforms
And obvious hand-crafted leanings to blow up your horns
So... Follow me, follow me
For there is MORE than meets the eye
Maybe some mittens to go with your sense of style
Follow me...
And I’ll be like
Melting a sketch in your glass of rye
Until you match your definition of beauty
With a proper silicone tie