Leave it to you the

You and I and we.

 

I give good as one can tender

I’m like thorn.

Vulgar thing cotton to.

Hatred is heavy on your breast.

Wine to tempest.

 

Thunder afar and lightning.

The desperate swept up.

I’m six corners.

This urban teeming

I raise alarm.

 

Let her tell it scared to death.

She’s through the narrows

where the condemned.

 

These night 

constant fete.

Always the gardens.

I sew alarm.

 

In the grips terror.

Days and hours.

until sated.

Documented

enthusiasm.

Memory consumed

of pestilence.

Me as brute.

Journey into states

Bohemian.

 

The doings embody

a place and time.

Left to me to do with.

 

Signal appreciation

alarm and effect.

She fall to me

beneath tension.

I’m talking shrew.

His sinister compelling 

in its origins.

Out for blood. 

Blood on the table.

Blood on the walls.

Speaks to weakness comrade.

 

It’s when she bends as if she talent.

Power corrupts full force.

Come out when thirst will drive

Devil to account.

One thing to another.

Reimagined the all day rain.

The cast about you immense.

The zenith in the throes.

There will be blood.  

Is tacit from the cards.

Master bed and head back, spine.

It is the fall 

with the courting.

For all the talk 

and pretension.

Sheets of rain 

and rage.

 

The Lovelorn.

See right there.

Pin point in her.

Ambition cost.

The stark envelope us.

Seen her grimace and grin.

 

Strident the overlook.

Understated.

Risk/reward.

 Guise

She follow me from Panama

In the guise of a woman

I did not recognize.

 

In this guise, than her famous form: Black Jaguar.

Taken aback by her arrival.

I am not dressed for guests.

 

Before revealing herself.

She takes on the whim 

Whose skin she’s in.

 

Over the Caribbean pursued.

The Dominican Republic.

Port Royal.

I am someone heard 

word of mouth.

Bring out your zeal.

When it come to the flesh, yes?

Make a woman feel joi de vivre, yes?

 

Having seen it done through the eyes

Of every woman she was

before her cover is blown.

In the midst of it 

a knowing moan.

I know again, 

it is time to run.

Matters not I am 

Mad Hatter.

And pursuits end 

the hunter, hunted.