Complete by Candlelight

She’s a psycho in her big, brazen feelings.  She’s a psycho in her right, a psycho to the tune, immune to alien bites and full moons… a psycho – complete by candlelight.  Should she find the time to keep her esoteric guise in place?  Should she wear a deviled mask, of sweat, pain and grace, a sweaty beaded bulk inside her rose-colored sun, a drumming of her ego’s quick escape?

Protection in psychosis; her guise plays along, prolonging common sense, her truly awesome fate, extending each and every grimy hiker as of late.  Can she find the path with crystallized light inside a song?  Should she bother?

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