gas lighter

i like to get under your skin

i carry lighters in my pockets,

and they're all green

like my body

scaly,

wreathy,

and always curling 

i'm made of gas

lighting the insides of everyone i meet into nothing

and they enjoy it,

in the beginning

every night i go out to the streets it's what i do

madness in head, deluminator in hand

dimming the light of every lamp

what? 

the nights are darker these days?

no,

no you must be wrong,

you're just confused, 

you left a purse in my hand

what? it was mine?

no, no, 

see that's where you're wrong

but it's a quick fix come, come, 

let me talk to you

it'll all make sense

I'm gaseous,

I'm gaseous