Another something from the Chatsubo Era Dated September 15, 2000. I had forgotten I had written this... rescued from a "blown up" hard drive. It seems to be related to the poem "designer's model" which was written a few weeks earlier.
*************************
Darkness
falls softly.
Her body
sliding to the floor
With such grace
One might
Believe
She
Died every day.
Later.
Tommorrow does not know
Darkness.
Thief.
He breaks in
'Partment
Of the Rich and Useless
To steal what he can
He finds her
wrist slashed
Blood ooze
Surrounds her body
Crimson halo'd.
Eyes wide.
He does not know
what to do.
Sweet death
embraces her
But he cannot
let her go
He takes her body
to a jimmi'd
clinic d-mod
she wakes alone
bandaged
memories fractured
she does not remember
why
who
where
she gazes at her surroundings
a Mot'l 68 on the Old Interstate
she finds nothing
but clothes
that fit too losely
and memories
which do not fit
at all
yesterday is hunting
darkness
a knife was not enough
for the thousanth
time:
should have waited
for her to die
light called darkness
ring
answered.
a stranger.
police.
they're looking.
today does not care
about
yesterday
nor tomorrow
he only wants now
But now is not interested.
now has never been interested
in today
now wants anything but today
