Science Fiction Paternal Twins.
by Marcus Cheney

I offer the shirt off my back
but you want the blood from my veins
thirsty vampire
I adorn garlic to protect my iodine
and find scraps of wood
to make crosses to kill you with
You load six silver bullets into a revolver
as I play the part of where wolf
I am a ghost, and you can not find me here
the full moon approaches
and i sit in my man suite
waiting to fade
into more absurd measures
creepy creatures of the night
with there own devious deeds
and social gripes
when we fight
it’s a deadly duel
and we both drop dead
and raise to our caves
by the first sight of morning
Everyone always complains of the day
its either too hot
or too cold
but no one ever mentions the moon
it is peaceful
and we are its mad merchants
dispensing fear
the months pass
and then the years
and we become more agile
and still fragile
to our akilies heal tendencies
I appeared at the gates
of your city of troy
with my pale horse
painted as bravado
you let me in
Helen
but love is blind
and you do not deal well
with dwellers
you torture true hearts
and send them to the dungeon cellars
in chains i wait for my fate
for you to set me free
or to cloak me in
what you could never give
I am a boy
and you are a girl
and together we are just kids
playing with desire, imagination and fire.