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A CHILD WITHOUT FEAR (The 6th Violent Verse)

The looming shadow holds her every thought
from her signature.
She remembers as a child
she seemed to be without fear
in the hollow imaginings of nightfall,
she was braver when she put
her tongue to his and they fell together.

(Love became tired and mean and loud
and put a fist inside her smile.)

She convinces herself to lie still, to not make a sound,
and she does, like a game of charades without gestures.
The shadow keeps growing, rising like the pain
of seeing a loved one suffer,
waiting on the moon to reveal the fog,
waiting on the rock to uncover the cause,
the shadow to pay a visit,
to bring fresh bread and bandages
and maybe the pieces of herself.



© 2009 mrp/thepoetryman
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