NERVE

		Where horror lies,
		this current binding
		fear to awe.
		The nerve jumps
		and the eye blinks,
		the hands sheen and tense
		intent to strike or choke
		if not for the current that drives
		the cocktail of grief and love 
		through the brain, the horror
		of what might do
		if not for these sad recollections,
		these ghosts, these nightmares,
		our nerves thrumming religiously 
		with the horror,
		the horror we love.

		— Steve Rasnic Tem


Steve Rasnic Tem Website

All rights to this poem belong to its author.

This page hosted by GeoCities Get your own Free Home Page


1