Long claws that scratch.
And fangs that bite.
The ice descended over night.
Clear of clouds.
A sky that's bright.
Jack frost's paint brush.
Out in force.
Planetary alignment.
Pretty rare.
Blazing skies.
Eating fries.
Discarded ones.
Half eaten burgers.
Keeping warm.
Feeling for the homeless ones.
Waiting for the climbing sun.
In my thoughts.
In my mind
I'm indoors.
Guess what I find.
Warmth and coffee.
A cosy duvet.
So very lucky.
(c)LIVVI

You play games as you dance on the strings of her heart.
Her heart has a purpose.
Seems nothing more than a perfect pump .
He who stands regardless of the vague skittish wanderer.
That flits into his dreams in the blackest of nights
.
She'll watch you dance from a distance before the fire light.
Firelight, that somehow flickers with desire.
Incarcerated she is.
Captured by your spirit.
Longing to break free.

She cries freedom from your chains.
Those of mortal remains.
Remains that still live.
Remain to achieve.
Seeking and sauntering,
Onwards,
Through shadows that feel.
Unreal.
Deliverance from the dance.
(C) LIVVI

I bathe in raindrops.
Dry in sunlight.
Freeze in frost on mornings bright.
Moonlight plays upon the clouds, as morning chorus  plays out loud.
Rats and mice do cross my path, as morning comes around.
The fast train flies at rapid speed, flinging sparks as it precedes.
Silently I sit at dawn upon the station so forlorn.
The light of dawn climbs to the sky.

Slow train creeps and here it stops.
Sparking as it slowly stops.
Next stop up the line is mine.
Always  busy.
Business men and dolly birds.
Female creature without a tongue.
As if I robot moves, a trophy upon a podgy business arm.
He slyly glances at all the females on the station.
London bound.
Waterloo.

Ascent into the land of work.
By now the sun has reached the sky.
I wonder why, when I get into the land of work it's really nearly dark.
And when the evening comes around the light has faded into night.
But night's not gone.
It's not right.
No proper daylight do I see.
Until the spring has sprung for real.
(c)LIVVI

Seven o clock.
The coffees hot.

Eyes wide open.
The heating's up.

I look into the mirror.
At one who isn't there.
Don't know.

Don't care.
Lost the image that once was.
He is no longer there.

Seeking images in mirrors.
Reflection of the past.

Here and now revisited.
My god we had a blast.

We danced at dawn by standing stones.
Before us lain but broken bones.

Of nuts and bolts.
One million volts.

Hair curling.
Witch burning.

Vampire hunting.
Ribbons and bunting.

Tied on trees.
Makers of stakes.

Handles for garden rakes.
Winding snakes.

Creepy spiders.
With fangs are glinting.

Voodoo queens.
As sunlight streams.

Time for bed.
Resting head.

Tomorrow night.
Time is right.

The vampire sleeps by day.
(c)LIVVI