Love in a Cold Place

You can't love in a cold place
when all there is in one existing is latent evil
festering like scabs of an open picked wound
a paper sword, a pistol ball in the gut
weakened mortal skin
fragile human bones
Across to the bed, a stake to the heart
fluffing ashes in the coffin
dusting winds, wild
immortal is just a fast passing thought
was where once is
stuffy and airless this room
shivering with lack of presence
brooding stone carvings
flickering candles and white drawn curtains
loving the black caped crusader
only in the warm coming darkness
waiting for it
feeling trepidation of light
after it passes, arise
exist
tempting, lips
curling fingernails
wrapping hands
snapping spine
oh monster
the doors you can't resist
when light is frozen to the handles
and snow fills the cracks and exit

Find more by Kelvin Bueckert in the Author Index.

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