An eclectic, electric touch
Though we don't hit that form, so much, as we used to
Lipstick illustrations on the popcorn ceiling, and
Dinner knife scrapings in the hard maple flooring, do not
Match the blood spray on the bathroom decor, nor my own
Liquid on the small of your back
What kind of frame of mind calls attention to this
Not-so-subtle, slippery, non-tranquil moment

Haven't a clue,
Don't mind the mess I've made on you, but my own
Reflection twixt the dull red, speckle painted mirror
Causes me no small amount of disconcerting puzzlement
Though that lasts but a fraction before I'm drawn
To another time and place of concerto proper
And the fragment haze sheds its cloudy form
Presenting the past, more suitable to norm, and then
I recognize the source of that fatalistic, mis-represented moment

That vile of vile
Indeed I do remember, now -- which brings me back to
The present, noting chalky white on the toilet cover
Just a nose bleed nothing more, nothing less than
Nothing worthy, to ponder further, so I
Venture back to my position of preference, to set in motion a
Preparation for another large deposit on the

Small of your back