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In the Lightless Black
So i am going to explain this poem first
What kind of poem would Jack the Ripper write
so here goes
oh the white of light
on slivered knife as bone is met
Bathe in warm pumped blood
Beauty as i watch a person stop
Slink my ink
in the lightless black
How long have i been
lost in inspirations
breathe
cold blood taste of ironed fillings
You are now my art
my attempt
not perfect yet
something not missing
but i must
as moons bevel
limps cobblestone alleyways
My darkness
say it to me
come
Just a thought
Copyright ©
Christopher Quigley
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