Psycho at The Northern Lights (horror-slasher poem)

northern-lights-1

I was close enough

to touch

with my sharp blade

the winter of your skin

the white cover of your blood

while you been sitting in front of my eye

singing like a jasmine-moon

restless and quiet perfume:

‘’ I love you so much!’’

                        so do I

mind and soul lost

lust for you

I raise my arm:

1,

2,

3 more times

and again,

and again,

and again,

till your heart

was pouring

the most beautiful blood

green, green, green,

absinthe

over my fiercely poetry sword.

The words are… shiiiii…vering!