Who are they
That hide in corners
Of my mind?

They feed
Her grapes

They drink
Her wine

They pull
The drapes

They do
The Wild Thing
that
drives us all
Crazy
and
up the wall
and
Out of our
heads and pants

Like a dog
In heat coals
Under my feet

I dance
The Sacred Waltz

I chance
That all will be
Forgotten.

Still she
Remembers.

I raped her.

Though only in a Dream.

And twice
As nice
As the time before.

Copyright (c) 2008 ProCity Publishing (ASCAP)