Untitled

it runs through me
again
as it did once in the days of black velvet posters
black lights
sounds of  Black Ivory
from the black dials of my transistor radio

it runs through me
words
poetry
conceived faster than my hands and fingers can decipher
keeping awake until dawn
screaming
tearing at the walls of my conscience
searching for the path to eternal freedom on my notepad

a voice turns on the ignition
a face
sends my heart into action 
unending
uneven
in its beats of metronomic time

slowing only when I hear things
and she notices me
hearing things

it runs through me
again