An Ordinary Mystic

This can only end badly

I am the groove man,
known by my absence,
my spaces tracing
the contour of your soul
exciting your vibrations,
liberating your music.
I am an existential ghoul
licking the wounds of your life,
sucking the pain from your breast
your nipples hard red angry sore from a thousand wants.
We fumble around the spaces
pretending not to notice the cracked facades,
broken promises and dreams disappearing
over the hill with someone who might not be back.