The ghost is hanging in the alcove
shuffling by a mirror
pens and computers
there was no final warning; just death
something we've always put off till tomorrow.
The gangster and the arsonist flee
leaving the porn star to grieve
cameras! lights! action!
hair and nails
Love and lust carry the same burden
when it's time to count your blessings and your chips.
There's something clean about the words
binding up the bloody wounds
Goblins sucking out the foul poisons
leaving me lost and spent on the cold tile floor.
(to be continued...)