LunarNightmare

I hear your Reality voice for the first time in Eros-Only-Knows-how-long.  Dressed to kill, but you've already killed me more times than a cat.  Reincarnated by your    smile not directed at me.  I'd have said hello, but I'm better compiling my nonsense into a grocery list of imperatives: Take off your skin, your suit, your sex. Poison the weatherman.  Death by acid rain.  Let the windchill bash your skull. Pretend it's a tornado whisking you off to Oz.  Steal the Tinman's heart.  Crush the Wicked Witch of Aphrodite.  Regret the pun on crush.  Become haunted by the Ghost of Valentine's Day Past.  She wants her ruby slippers back.  Click my b