I Watch Him
I Watch Him
by Positive Mark
The quiet of his flat. The drone of a space heater, providing white noise, concealing the shrills of an ego, shattered by
truth.
He wanders the earth like a ghost with unfinished business.
He writes like the devil you don’t see hiding in your closet at night.
He’s inactive unless he writes.
Even though he’s not blind, his feet still can’t keep time. He merely sees well enough to let a piece of poem rhyme.
I watch him.
I watch him as he passes by mocking mirrors that will lie to him
never more.
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