---

I whispered words of solace
She made a plea for mercy
Then I gently kept her quiet

Critically still

Solemn, suddenly small
Inanimate mangled doll

Critically still

She was one among many
Removed far from pain and misery
Now scattered all over the gloom
Removed from my loving memory

It’s gruesome, but so easy
How resilient I can be
To post-murder vacuity
To my natural empathy

(Resilient)
Condemned to continual widowerhood
I confess I did not take the easy way out
But over time I only keep merry crime memories

You know, I see myself as a refined french gentleman
With very ‘specific’ skills
Kind of old-fashioned romantic hero
In constant search for esthetic rapture
-Through deadly gestures

Alas!
I can’t bring them back
They’re buried too deep, with exquisite care,
They can’t touch me
As I don’t even remember their faces or names
They can’t haunt me
But ‘le fumet’ of their flesh remains heady

You can’t haunt me
You live forever inside of me

You reinforce me
Your life flows, fresh, inside of me

Sometimes at night, I admit I don’t feel very comfortable
Not guilty, strictly speaking, but lonely and observed at the same time
I try not to think too much, and focus on tomorrow
On new ravishing muses
There’s always a smell of decay floating above my bed
Too many organic stains on the floor I can’t clean

I can live with these graceful spirits by my side
While their mortal remains dry in my ‘cabinet noir’

Yes I have nightmares
Like you
Yes I can cry
Like you
Yes I’m afraid to die
Like you
I am such a sensitive man indeed
But my love for Art, passion drawn in red, is stronger than your pain

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