Wings like the abyss

Death better be quick

When she starts knocking

at the door

Don’t dick about

I’ll tell her

I don’t want to linger

On what might haves

Or what could haves.

She’s going to come to me

In a fitted black dress -

that is a cocoon of her wings -

(Like the abyss of the cosmos),

With hair of fire

(The destroyer off all things),

And eyes of poison

(that ends you in silence).

And I’ll see her coming.

And I’ll fight the urge

I’ve cultivated through my life,

To run away from beautiful women,

And finally let this one kill me.

Like I should have done

A dozen times or more in my youth.

Here’s hoping I’ll be in a bar alone

And she’ll send me a drink.

I’ll know its her then.

I’ll know death would have come.