Dark Poetry Prose Poetry December 21, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

12-21-04 tuesday 9:47pm

the night always wears a skirt. a short one. no panty hose. bare skin. long legs.

the night. she is nothing if she's not a seductress. consistently luring hearts away from the sun.

the night. like a whore. she fucks all, but loves none. you can't buy her. but she's always buying us.

hearts at auction. humanity's ebay. lives for sale. buy me. you can for much less than you'd think you'd have to pay.

the night. she's no one's friend. but she's everyone's ally. because she has no opinions. only folds upon folds of darkness to smother the light that would endeavour to expose whatever our weakness.

nothing is as nothing must. yourself a drunken surgeon operating on your conscience. time the scapel that cuts you open. indifference the anestehtic that blocks the pain impulse. you're lying on the table. operating on yourself. your hands shaking. organs exposed.

you're both above and below yourself. both the picture and the frame. but the camera. the film it holds. that you can never change.