~prelude For a Stalker~

I wish she were my concubine all wrapped in my celebrity, draped, Dali-like around my neck or me melded between her thighs, not just a deity who floats past floored-jaws as if they were a guard of honour. A virtual sniper fixating her in a thousand yard stare, firing bullets of desperation hoping to pierce her heart, but I am a candle in a flash bulb supernova not even the burn in retina's memory, just a mote in jetsam discarded.