With Only One

with only one alone with only one and sometimes the confusion of two a mono-world full of off-angled mirrors i could never tell who was the reflection from the reflected the speaker from the listener the good from evil in a skewed and jumbled world. alone with only one and always the pain of many a crowded world full of victims gassed and tortured. i could never tell the living from the dying the laughing from the crying pain from pleasure in an orderly yet insane world. alone with only one and the knowing of not knowing whether love was coming or going in the arms that fed and held me there to caress or choke me a fang beneath soft lips that would kiss and sometimes bleed me. 1996