Emily Winters                                                                                                       

The Wings of Night

                    Paralyzed –

Under the easy-going umbrella of your eyes.

The imagined scrutiny that lies

Crouched behind closed doors

(or the opaque, the blurred lines between

right and wrong, the clouded sea glass fixated on me).

Wearing down my walls

As the water sheds its skin as the salt rubs

Away your piercing capacity

But still it strikes me to the marrow

Still, wielding one look, my frozen bones

Stick like glue to the roof of my mouth

Mingling with lost words and fragments of thought.

And the rope which squeezes tighter

Drawing close the plastic bag with every frantic flap of

The wings of night,

Hugs my legs with the possessiveness of you and me.

If I were to run,

I would find myself face-down

All my cards run out

The doors all locked and the endless brick walls

Melting down.

The dirt would cushion my fall

But the concrete would break my jaw.

I see you laughing and the endless grins

Lurking behind placid lids

I know you know

I feel your stare –

There’s nowhere else to run.