in the wake of beatitude
the dalliance of a lover scorned
your thorns and your thimbles
all are wild and necessary
in the meantime i run and dance
upon the headless waters
jolts of electricity in feverish spurts
hit the earth and spray our shirts with blood
splattered like honey comb
a smorgasbord of tragedy and unclean similarities
your self-same regulars
threatening daily to outdo you