I peer quite nervously about,
to wonder at the goings on,
how much of what is said,
is  speculation on my part,
and  how this dwelling rose,
from a clouded past milieu,
tales of the apocryphal I’d guess,
imagination stirred off course,
uncanny gothic motto purblind,
blue ink mist curtain veil stoke,
vivid mind’s black night visual,
amulet of congested fantasy,
macabre plot on the strain,
what surreal restlessness within,
dormant interregnum cast,
yet one seems drawn toward,
that dim lit swirling sight,

MORE THAN A TISSUE

It takes more than one tissue
To dry tears from my cheeks
They dribble down, unbidden
Yet triggered, as the response
To something, even unknown
Like some bare wires shorting
Arising deep in gut and heart
Somehow bypassing the brain
As independent of all control
A tap turned by ghostly hand
Or a hidden program in code
Never to be fully understood
Even if tears may wet the lips
Their saltiness offers no clues
Whether it was sorrow or joy
Either is a possible candidate
Perhaps in time, some clarity

Craning my neck at
skewed angles on a
rose coloured past life
whose comic skies bear
tints of pale grey clouds

With every wearying year
the weight of the winter grows
and while the schoolgirl outgrows
her clothes,
the widow disappears
in hers.

I am nothing but a mutt
A mix of filthy genes
My fur is matted and my bark quiet
And I know nothing of the hunt
And I know not to track
But I know to wait
So I sit and I wait
All for you to kick me aside
Just because I do not bite
But I will not bite
Because I was not bred for the hunt
But for the warmth of your hand on my fur
And so I wait.

And as the bugs dig at your flesh
I wonder do you still dream?
The affection you so dearly craved
Is it satisfied by the maggots?
And the warmth you begged for
Do the worms hear those pleas?
The touch of the bugs
Is it the comfort you dreamed it would be?
Or must you find comfort with the soil?
As the bugs dig at your flesh
Is it cold?
Do you crave for more?
Or does the soil treat you well?

I dug my fangs into your flesh
But you did not feel them
You didn’t even notice as the blood poured out
But I tasted it
And I kept craving more.
And as your blood grows sour
I realize I miss when you tasted sweet.
But did you ever?
I fear I must unlatch.
My jaw has grown tired
Holding on just for this bitter mouthful
But I cant help but wonder
Will you miss the bite?
The pressure of my teeth
Will you miss the ache?
Or did my fangs truly sway you none?

If I were to be anybody else in the world I would hope I could be pretty
I want to be pretty just for a day;
Pretty to everyone, pretty to just someone.
I want to be loved just for a day;
Loved by everyone, loved by someone.

And then if I could be loved by anybody,
I would want it to be you.
I would want to be pretty for you,
Just a day is all I need.
I want to be funny to you,
Just a day, I can make that work.