His night shadow moves slowly <br />& causes some more destruction <br />as he lights another johnny player, <br />making god go further in silence. <br /> <br />My lover chains the moon to the earth. <br />Never sees light, only god <br />in the mirrors he’s buried in the ground <br />of deep rooted promises, <br /> <br />& I imagine… <br /> <br />His hands, a midnight stroke of genius, <br />his feathered pen weaving across <br />time in the sky waiting for his message: <br /> <br />A letter of a lover who can never be healed, <br />never be of the few bloodlines he has left, <br />the little blood he writes with <br />before going up in smoke. <br /> <br />Ashes, my lover, leaving me like the phoenix <br />when he knows its his last cigarette… <br /> <br />This is the lover who stalks my dreams. <br />This is the terrifying second-coming, <br />& christ, now I see him in the windy city <br />& how the wind gets wind of everything, <br />makes heaven in every slum for him.<br /><br />MARINA GIPPS<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/as-he-plans-his-next-victim/
