she can be no other than who she is OR this shit don't rhyme

she's the girl the husbands call on a night their wives are distant
she's the girt the young men visit on a night their heart needs a listen

she's the girl that gives her love, and learns of them more than any
she's the girl that no on knows nor takes the time to see

she's the girl that never gets naught but brief interlude on their path to another
she's the girl that knows what boys like, their dick needs a kissn'

"Your body for my soul, fair swap, cause cheap is how feel..." ~ Cowboy Junkies

near water she breathes deep

on a gray
morn the lake mists split
only by the drumming tattoo
of her heart thrumming
to the moan deep pounding
of a goth synth pop

Daisy Chain for Satan ~ My Life in a Thrill Kill Cult

realizations in the quiet of winter

it’s cold
not just the night
the pit her heart dug

and even
the swoon of love she sought
was naught but dreams

and her heart dug deeper

“Making love out of nothing at all” ~ Bonnie Tyler

pause

sweetly
in this moment
with every-one
in their as-is place
and out the window
every-thing
is still
in the grasp of fall

"wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile..." ~Sweet Jane, Cowboys Junkies

my own self

sometimes I forget my own self
that I write, I’m a writer
of cold hard truths and lies
of fucking and sucking
limericks and poetry and
structured things
that form in the mouth
on my tongue
in the membrane

in the white noise
that never stills
even then
I write, I’m a writer

duct tape and screws

in she come undone

picked at the ravels and pills

till a hole torn clean through

the coming undone?

it let the other in

and quickly let the other out

long she been

battened down and patched up

with duct tape and screws

though Androids [may] Dream 

of Electric Sheep

and Cowgirls with Demons

long to crush deep blue

she knows they ain't never

gonna be you