What do you do, realizing all the years wasted, chasing what was never meant for you?
The quiet thoughts could have called angels down, innocent and guileless, instead of the
demons of lust and despair.
I reach for something that isn’t there, either in the world or in my dreams, place of peace,
place of no bitterness, place where I can fly among the stars and know the names of a
sacred kin, unknown to flesh.
The night is cold, and a young woman with blonde bon and headband, smokes a
cigarette, the plume of exhaled smoke less caustic than a wedding veil. She will
never be free, because flesh is a demon.
The Strip is empty this night of the coming plague, and I know I am now a taget
for the knights of authority, but I’ll be back in my empty house soon, and all will
be will, when I am out of my skin and out in the light.