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To see her sleep you would think her dead
for not a single muscle was moving from toe to head
Long brown hair fanned out upon the bed
hands resting gently upon the bedspread
What must be going on within her mind so still
is she fake or is she real
Tiptoe lightly up to her face
listen for her breathing but there is no trace
Looking at her chest, it's as still as can be
There's no rising up and down, only sitting still so silently
Bend over and touch her cheek and see if she is warm
the warmth you feel fills you with alarm
Backing out the room you feel you must escape
for this creature cannot be from earth's landscape
What could have brought her to this silent room
Is she here plotting earth's final doom
The door you finally reach and turn back to see
the beautiful woman staring back at thee
Without speaking you become her tool
with eyes of blazing blue
she starts to command you
Together you walk into the night
clasping hands together you disappear from sight.
Copyright © Pamela Boudreaux | Year Posted 2009
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