Nighttime Light

So I walk the curving path, like a catwalk. Naked, but with a heavy coat over. One breast bared towards the city as rebellion against the searchlights. There is nothing more exciting than the thudding blades endeavoring to catch me. Warm my hands in January winter, for all I have is this wool coat.

I spent last night with my lover. My lover is the city. Nearly three decades after establishing my point of origin here, I am back in your arms. Send me your buses, your bright lights, your bums, your police helicopters. I want to kiss soot-covered angels and ten-minute rockstars. Los Angeles, i'm yours. My love was yours, from the first.

I am a refugee from my modest beginnings, from my suburban serfdom.

You are still warm and restless after the sun goes down.

I press on in tribute. I fuck my neighbor as myself, to stay alive.

Dog eat dog. We are a city of the Most Important One.

My hands twist in agony of broke, broke, flat broke coffee shop loiterings. Exhaust is my fresh air. The superiority of my zip code is still unsatisfying.

Move, move or love. For trains used to pass through here, but they'd never stop, and never will again.

I am on the way to, in this nighttime light. My nudity looks better this way.

I am only a compilation of muses. You will never have me. All you'll ever have is the story of yourself. Bound up, gagged, in high heels, but always subdued.

Rounded out, you are music for the masses. I am not what you wanted but I got the part because the one you wanted wasn't available.

I got the part.
We say it as if
as if
it was a part
of something bigger.

Who will play the heroine in this porno? I am the cameraman-rapist.

I take, in the shadows.