Don't force me to this zone
where the walls are
insub-
stantial
and thick as
barricades the same time,
where squeals of owls that carry mice
between their nightly claws become
screeches of demons with
black
holed
eyes
ropes choose to twine necks
with a knack for
nodding
I wake
again
or so it seems
but there they are again
crows of
menace
in raven
black clothing
with knives for claws
don't drive me down the stairs
of derelict timber, a gateway
that closes to a chamber of
torture
with rings
to crush my
spine, thin arms
and spreadeagle love
oh wake me to a morning with sun
and chant of birds
oh please
***
May 1, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
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