CONFESSION ZERO

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