Scythe across his knee,
Empty sockets
Stare at me,
While a shadow tiptoes like a puppet
Over tissue...
Stained like a ****'s gusset.

The latest...
A sister of no mercy.
A cross between Medea and Circe,
Headed to the King's Road with a mate
In the hour-glass... my last grains of fate,
Just wrappers in my dressing-gown pockets
No more Lemsips,
No more Locketts.

She leaves with Mr Amex
And a blown kiss,
My last words...
"No, not like this!"