Escape Artist
Certain she’s sleeping he slides out of bed
collecting his discarded clothing
quietly donning them
slipping away silently like a specter
cautiously opening and closing the door
hoping the hinges don’t squeak
the floorboards don’t creak
Slowly sauntering down the stairs
conscious of where his feet fall
for he dare not switch on the light
listening for the bell on the collar of the cat
she introduced him to
after inviting him inside like a vampire
who must be granted permission
to pass over one's threshold
Exiting out the back into the night
every word he’d said rendered a lie
each gesture of affection fake
a carefully crafted illusion
though for a few fleeting moments
he thought he might mean them this time
In the end she was only another shoe
he shoved his foot into trying it on for size
to see how it would feel
Arriving home before sunrise
he has a bourbon and soda from the bar
before retiring to his own empty bed
celebrating another successful escape
from anything real
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