image: There is a fire you can only see in the mirror.
Nights of rage I have watched,
untiring, over this flame. Nights
and then nightmares of love
and the claw; trapped and
betrayed by the girl, I lay naked
under the steel that stripped me
unerringly. The murder played
again, the lines of blood. Spiral
into loathing; the body that
lusted after death and the spirit
ruled by lust. The weakness of trust.
This my loving flaw, this the scar
healed badly, this the ruin of my chest.
This the night of rage, the wind
from the flame whipping my eyes
and the stars; retreating.