I wait beneath its stance. I watch from safety,
away from the pain that riddles the air I breathe.
I walk near enough to hear, stare at its jaws.
My knowing creates a sound, an echo, like space
bending down to greet my sleep, to growl
my last wish, which splits in two
and exposes a stranger in my sight.
I wait beneath its stance. My words chained
and mangled by my thick tongue. The breath I
allow in my throat. The noise I hear is close,
close enough that I feel its movement, just above
my exposed flesh, where jaws drip with iniquity.
The moist ground writhes in its jagged shadow
where my feet once touched, where our eyes met.
A nameless spirit waits with me here,
beneath its gaping stance. I step forward now
and turn to greet it, let my fright wrestle the beast
…it is me.
© 2009 mrp/thepoetryman
away from the pain that riddles the air I breathe.
I walk near enough to hear, stare at its jaws.
My knowing creates a sound, an echo, like space
bending down to greet my sleep, to growl
my last wish, which splits in two
and exposes a stranger in my sight.
I wait beneath its stance. My words chained
and mangled by my thick tongue. The breath I
allow in my throat. The noise I hear is close,
close enough that I feel its movement, just above
my exposed flesh, where jaws drip with iniquity.
The moist ground writhes in its jagged shadow
where my feet once touched, where our eyes met.
A nameless spirit waits with me here,
beneath its gaping stance. I step forward now
and turn to greet it, let my fright wrestle the beast
…it is me.
© 2009 mrp/thepoetryman
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