“Don’t go dark on me again.”

The hand was talking out

Of the side of 

It's mouth

Again.

"You can say a lot with a little...

Or a little with a lot...

Or a lot with a lot...

Or a little with a little..."

...He was stand there hovering

Over the broken person...

...The lights would flash,

And they would come and ask him...

And, hey, in the right circumstances...

...He might push himself to speak.

"Maybe they might

Know my name

If they find me

By this lonely creek..."

The hand was talking out

Of the side of

It's mouth

Again.

The dream has left,

The steam from morning 

Theft

Was rising, and concealing...

...All of his past crimes 

Faintly gleaming

Like dewdrops over

Leaves...

...Somewhere an owl

Calls, and 

Ancient fears are

Now returning...

"Don't take me to

Your pain again!...

I won't go to

The woods...

Don't make me

Kiss you

In the fog...

...I never thought

I would 

Succumb to that

Hot hunger

That never

Seeks an end

To it's 

Voracious 

Thirst!..."

"...I hate the way

You leave me...

...It's on this

Hill that

I am cursed."

©

2017

Bunny Villaire