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A Safe Place to Hide

 

My flesh was stripped clean

The moment I saw your wine glass

Stretch itself from the counter

All the way over to his table

And you lingered

And hovered near by him

 

It doesn’t matter that his nonsense

Is only a flash moment in time

And he’ll be gone

At the very least

With the morning trash

 

I’ve been hooked and spun on you

Locked tight, mind in a whip spot crash

A tunnel to blindness where my casket is waiting

 

I pull loose a piece of glass from my thumb

And tuck it inside my shoe to save it for later

I may want to lick clean my blood

And memorize the flavor

Of its hate for him and its love for you

 

And I now realize how absurd it all sounds

For you are nothing more

Than my hurt wanting a soft place to heal

And a warm heart to surrender my strength

 

And your beautiful eyes

That only seem to know my soul

Because if they did they would see my pain

And grant it a safe place to hide

 

© 4/30/1997, William Grant Preston

Grant's Rants - Poetry

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How many eyes does the average person have?