Lucas at Midnight

by

Lucaslover


No one sees him sliding the tip of his finger between the pages,
flipping over to the recipe for binding unwilling hearts to his
icy will. He doesn't think it strange that rage can make his lovers
tremble with the terrible cold of lost choices. He enjoys his spells.

“I want to hurt you,” he tells her.
“As long as I get to hurt you back,” Selena whimpers.
She's really the one woman he can't conjure to his will.
He loves and hates her for that.

Selena isn't easy. Not like Gail. Still, it's Gail who fills
His dreams past midnight. It's Gail whose image hangs
On his dining room wall, painted with eerie truthfulness
By some artist whose name he can't recall.

In the distance, a raven flies across the moon. He turns the lamp
Off and lays down the ancient book of conjurations. The book is worn
But untorn. He handles it with more care than he handles their hearts.
Why not? He isn't interested in hearts. Obedience is what he seeks.