Kissing Disease

Dull pain driving
Through my spaghetti
Of veins riding shotgun
From the modest stone
In a ghost ridden graveyard
To the cliffs of the Palisades.
The Hudson waters promise
Baptism but what remains
Of the bloodletting
Turns rancid in her tin grail
Evaporating in a simmering fog.
It's midnight and the air humid
Like them spicy nights by the river
Swapping secrets and bodily fluids
Till the bleeding stopped
But tonight I only care
To dwell on plans
For murder of the dead.