Cold Steel

My head hurts
the migraines, the pain
the fever, the stomach ache
the twisted horns
coming out on my head
the night is my veil
Chinese screen of darkness
comes to cover my sins
the blood, the thirst
the sins, my bed
and warm wet circles

I wear a mask
portray control
leather boots
and a riding crop
a cross for buckle
and belt
all dressed in black
my disguise is ready
and Mixquic will see me born
into what will become my uniform
on my return to the Seattle night.