II: Rapture

The city tonight seems
quiet as a dead man's heart.
My own heart is pushed to flight.
In the shadows I feel my body
shiver and start.

I cannot sleep at night.
I need a touch swift sharp and eager as my own
to slice down into the love and lies
and slit the bone.

Blood is a liar
and love is a thief:
only sex and loneliness and death
can bring relief.

The beast is gliding from window pane
to window pane, hard with
longing, longing
to leap. I will call it into me
and let it feast
while I sleep.