Spectator

the hour late, I hesitate to lift the shield of isolation the walls lean in, as if to hear they make believe, by breathing hard, as if they sleep, but I am wise to them, I am... I know the sound, I know of eyes... these walls have souls that live within the air is solid, the light is dim beyond my window, summer stirs a sleuth that leers... , absurd it seems, but watching me, I feel the burn it shuffles in, with shades of black a muffled step, through restless leaves I catch my breath, ......yet strange, ....at ease the curtain pants, with pulsing veins I brush my hair, step out of clothes... wait one moment to compose... slip on a gown, holding close my other self the one who never dares to take a chance I want to dance the seven veils, for eyes that dwell beyond the glass beyond my dream, ....they look at me two eyes,they watch in black and white, I feel the burning of the night the suddenness of who I am... she has no name she has no shame wanton, willing in the dark it's sliding in the crisp black grass I douse the light.........and step up close to look again, through window's pane no questions asked the eyes aren't there..... in black and white.......and by the gate... nothing waits.... becoming clear but I don't care...... in isolation............the walls are falling and have old souls I know they stare I'll dance for them I know for certain they are there _____________________________________________________________ Resubmitted for Contest: Premiere Contest # 10 Sponsored by Skat