make-believe
my fingers' smell of matches
your skin's taste of paint
making it new
much later the sound of your feet
tiptoeing
through the lake of wime
spilled on your assault
while I was painting on the walls
within a frame of wood on concrete
white on white
I portrayed myself standing
naked
in a darkroom
staring at a picture of you
dancing -
making me believe
you thought of me
Kites
pseudo-freedom of uncut leash -
it's the almost that makes
the bright yellows and blues
look sad around the edges
a truth so simple
in this room
I've locked
to keep distance
I lie and wait
listening
to the pulse of your feet
coming closer
and stopping
on the other side
of this damp wall
the breath is waiting
until with a sigh
you come right through the wall
like a ghost
and maybe that's what you are
an illusion
unreal
or a sound in my ear
and maybe you don't belong
in this place
so close to me
that my skin almost hurts
private eye
I'm spying on you
I'd love to see you naked
(creeping through your backyard,
hiding near your bedroom window,
in the inevitable black cloak
and noiseless sneakers)
holding my breath,
I'll watch your mind undress
and
seek evidence
that you, too,
are human.
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