The Hawk, The Butcher, The Killer Of Beauties - Chris Connelly

If you were praying for an early eclipse

To fold the greed within the spectrum-shift

The gaping misfortune in the drain of disdain

White out the night if we reach home again

The hawker indicates magnificate fear

Too cold for comfort in the hate-mosphere

I knelt down beside her melting heart and hell

Too drunken to see where her faithlessness fell

The mixed in beliefs again

Betrayal in heat again

A need to release in the comfort

Of sideway shadows

All playing at cutting the creeps in two

She is only the tenth to remind me

A deafening slant on the desperate man

Carousel movements in anti-terrain

Blow holes between the legs of her shame

The murderer passed as a magus

Hiding for fear that his guild disappears

Alone is the butcher in surrogate stains

Breaking his back to reach home again