He bragged about
beating Death at its own game
His sweat mixing with the soap
as he washed the car
His ratty T-shirt
showing his freckles and moles
on his back
And the scar of the man
that tried to kill him
I lay
head under covers
Loud and angry men in the hallway
I hide here
pretend to sleep
they will go awayThere is a loud thud on the door
and a pleading desperate voice
The sound of footfalls
and thunder in the night
I swallow hard
The silent darkness
is crushing
In the darkness of the night
I told myself
that my eyes had adjusted
Told myself
the ebon landscape
had become my turfThen you opened
that damned door
Your jet black silhouette
Framed in searing white light
etched itself on my retinas
And I could see only your darknessI had to scream
There was no choice
The ivory Madonna
dressed in black
Fine pale pages
trimmed in jetI have no dreams
But to open her
read her
Know her in every senseThe nubile
snow-flake princess
Vapor seed
from another placeI have no hands
But to touch her
melt her
Mixing her with my tears
Your eyes
black obsidianThe past moves through your mind
disturbing the deep deep
waters in your eyesThe black ice
slices through your heart
leaving your hands cold
and your lips blueThe reflections of your image
skip across the mirror of jet
between us
Leaving holes in the walls behind me