This is the blood page,
Where nothing counts.
But your shadow

This is the blood page,
Writ in ink
And sealed in nothing.

This is the blood page,
A dissolvable nightmare.

This is the blood page,
A wisp of wind
And dark creaking trees.

This is the blood page,
Where nothing good
Happens after nine.

This is the blood page,
Where rusted machinery
Moans with the night.

This is the blood page,
Where churning Maelstroms
Pull you inside.

This is the blood page,
Where leapers crowd nightmares
And noon becomes night.

This is the blood page
Of burning sun
And hardpan horizon.

This is the blood page,
Of ghosts towns
And junk cars.

This is the blood page,
Where trains run backward
And death is on time.

This is the blood page,
Where time disappears
And you with it.