Saturday, October 16, 2010

don't blink. (XIV)

the sound is not asleep, it's moving under my feet
not a shout, but a whisper, hardly heard by the dreaming
it creeps on wispy heels, its fingers lacing 'round the earth
and appears in the shady corners of our trembling nerves

it inches slowly up our bodies, starting at our soles
shallowly breathing all the secrets of the world
speaking to us in the night, leading us through the maze
filled of dead ends and nightmares with sharp-toothed eyes

licking our bellies, it burrows into our soft moonlit skin
biting the ends of our flowing arteries and veins
feasting on our hearts, the blood giving concreteness to its form
stealing our sunken eyes and swollen eyes for its own

it seeps into our slumbering, unguarded minds
its fingertips bloodying the creatures it finds
its body swaying to the rhythm of dance of death
asphyxiating all that it steps underneath

it lays waste to what was before, quietly, unseen
and settles itself on the throne of our subconscious as king
gazing towards the rising sun and waits motionless, as stone,
and smiles as we wake to realize that we are weeping angels also.

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