Sometimes you want to
walk to the gallows,
for my sins.
It was a big fight
over the organ stop, but
I had a different version.
Living in mirror had
become a charm. At least
you were visiting me daily.
Like sniper fire.
It was a volley of bad names
for a nameless, nearer home.
In quest of fear to
understand the unknown, I
have sacrificed my birds of night.