Dear thief

Of silent steps down the strip of my mind,

And dainty whispers in-between the creases,

Of furtive glances behind the embattled sky

And promises at the tip of the inky tongue,

The comfort of the right choice

Comes from the way one of us always

Holds tighter when we embrace.

Yet, the prickle in the wrong one

Feels bitterly alive at ripen nights

When the moon sheds off layers of skin

Into a snakelike coil, under your open eyes

That summon Hades rather to stir things

Into unbalance than console the loss.

Hold me a longish while, just enough

To catch you red-handed and into the stealth

Of a hungry feline.

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