three
locked and loaded--bowling set.
sounds like a gun.
gunning for you;
bullet's got your name on it.
bite it flee it slice it take it
it comes to mark you mine.
running to you;
i'll meet your bullet head on
take it back to the gun
you don't need to mark me to know i'm yours.
chambers:
i've your bullet in one,
cold mattress another;
two blanks throw my chances,
bead from mardi gras dances,
and your love fills the one pounding
cadence for your soul.
once upon a bygone ever,
she fell with a crash and you lay with her slow
slow breathing slow living, slow life beats went by
an exchange of phantom lines,
like ghosts in the dark- you kept her alive
so she sits in your heart pocket
for quiet company, tonight
sister, may i?
sister, please you, enter in--
the room is yours, the hearth within
leaps merrily at soft approach
so that in love and warmth you soak
the ghosts and the phantoms in corners shiver
curled tight on home's rug let belonging never wither