I've laid my claim on No Man's Land,
And yes,
There's really nothing here.
Just dust, and the occasional vagabond wind.

Yet,
I've made the dust my friend,
And wind my accomplice,
And the arbitrary my entirety.

I've bent her sultry whispers into rueful screams,
And play them on repeat while I sit here.
Like music, sweet music.
Then I play them backwards,
Giggling as she speaks in desperate tongues.

A merely wicked amusement you are, Love--
Contrived and bitter love.
If you be the devil, then surely I'm your demon.