Shy-girl, Watching-girl

Shy-girl, watching-girl

Always-on-the-tip-of-my-tongue-girl

Dancing around the main idea

True center of the words

I am along the lines, between the notes

Flickering eyes and a smoldering glow

Her pallid thighs tingle from the lashes

She flinches with each step, the murmurs of a quivering night

Whispers scatter, starving for sin

Lips glisten in the dark

I creep in through the white noise of the swirling ennui that surrounds you

Right below the earlobe in my driest cabernet cadence

Our duet has such modality, but it’s not a nocturne… it’s a dirge

And the death I deal is cruel

You’ll feel it coming in the blood-flooded chambers of your true strumpet heart

And I can kill you like this wherever I wish...

A darkened corner of the city’s most notorious dive

White-knuckling the wheel on some midnight mile down I-88

In the shower (like Janet Leigh)

Each death is different, but death all the same

And, unlike a cat, you’ll never run out

How fortunate for me

An unsettling need, it refuses to pass

We wait for that morbid release

A ritual that makes our flesh so bloody, so numb

Once the fuse is lit, we tremble with sickly rapture

Then the pain seems gone

But it won’t be for long

She was dressed and made up in such a way that you *almost* wanted to avoid touching her and just sit and stare.

Appreciate her, admire her, longingly gaze at her…

Almost.

I am embroidered in a sunrise

Shining bright in the hours after 3:00am

You stitch my name across your eyelids

Then quilt me a blanket comprised of your breath

At my doorstep, you are covered in fluids from Lovecraftian dimensions

The kind that turn pink when we mix them together

In the moments before the light finally peeks through…

We are brave, we are unrestrained, we are true