It's four in the morning,
the end of December.
I'm writing you now
just to see if you're better.
New York is cold
but I like where I'm living.
There's music on Clinton Street
all through the evening.

*Moonlight becomes you; funny how i think of that when the Lady is dark and the mist holds no pale. I remember the one time you took me in that fountain in Madrid, lightening all around us, people rushing by. They never noticed a couple of blokes going at it underneath that God, or if they did they were more concerned with their own mortality than two pagans' debauchery.*

I hear that you're building
your little house
deep in the desert.
You're living for nothing now.
I hope you're keeping some kind of record.
Yes, and Jane came by
with a lock of your hair.
She said that you gave it to her
the night that you planned to go clear.
Did you ever go clear?

*Probably not smart for a suicidal vamp to be wandering around 84 Lumber, lusting after pressure-treated pine 2x4s. That's not why I'm out here, though. I'm lost. Oh, shut up. No, really lost; there was a detour and now I'm stuck in the middle of goddamned nowhere.*

The last time we saw you
you looked so much older.
Your famous blue raincoat
was torn at the shoulder.
You'd been to the station
to meet every train
but then you came home
without Lili Marlene.

*I used to want your attention, even if it was only to beat me bloody and spit on my face. Then all I wanted was for you to leave me alone, let me go; it wasn't that I didn't love you, but it was too fucking hard to see you that way, pain turned inward instead of out. You started torturing yourself instead of your family, and that wasn't right. You selfish bastard, you took the only thing I got from you and made it your own.*

And you treated my woman
to a flake of your life.
And when she came back
she was nobody's wife.
I see you there
with a rose in your teeth,
one more thin gypsy thief.
Well, I see Jane's awake.
She sends her regards.

*Car's waiting; full tank of gas and some backtracking to do. I am not staying in another rent-by-the-hour motel in the morning, even if I have to dig myself a hole. You're not worth it; wanting you isn't worth it. Besides, it's hard to wank yourself when everything around you smells like desperation and pity. Unless you're my Dark Princess. She liked that.*

And what can I tell you
my brother my killer?
What can I possibly say?
I guess that I miss you.
I guess I forgive you.
I'm glad you stood in my way.

*What do you think about, when you're guzzling your cow's blood? Do you wonder if the cow suffered? Or does it matter at all; the stupid animal died for human consumption and your meal is a convenient benefit. If humans were cannibals, would you start drinking their blood again?*

If you ever come by here
for Jane or for me,
I want you to know
that your enemy is sleeping.
I want you to know
that his woman is free.
Yes, and thanks
for the trouble
you took from her eyes.
I thought it was there for good,
so I never tried.

*One thing I do know is that this soul seething inside me doesn't make me good, just like yours doesn't make you a knight in not-so-shining armor. You bought into the image, the dream of redemption. I don't want that. I was born for the gutter, stars be damned.*

And Jane came by
with a lock of your hair.
She said that you gave it to her
that night that you planned to go clear.
Sincerely,