Shoeprints in snow with mint-scented
flowers reeling in the wind.
Silver-stone eyes dance with her lips.
She'll call you what you call her.
Ice-white frost hair.
White rose pebbles on molded carpet.
Idiot-eyed dolls are companions.
They make the best hallucinations.
She and you are absolute,
the snow is colder now.
The ages have caught up to you,
don't let her see the breath from your mouth.
She smiles, "I know the ways around your name."
Is this child's play?
You're mad as a ghost.
You'll give her just one chance
to sugar coat you--
from the paper petals
at your would-be stilettos,
to the iron gray flood
that drapes by your nose.
"Alone, alone, alone."
"I just need to be alone in my bed. "
"I'm too old to keep up with your mess."
She's just a child, keep telling yourself.
"No hurting, no hurting."
"My mind is crying out for death."
"Let me go!"
"I'm going insane!"