The Walk Home

The maze before me spins

And weeps, a vial of tears

From ducts of dreams

From years of being seen

From years of scrubbing,

Never once feeling clean

I keep my head down

Past the house on the left—

The sarcophagi where my predator rests

Keys laced through my fingers—

Improvised claws

Protection for the journey past God

I quicken my pace

Heart pounds in my chest

Did he watch from the window?

Did he see me undress?

Does he hide in the sewer

And look up my dress?

Red breaths crest upon my neck

Whiskey whispers, fire embers

Darkness swallows the peak ahead

The SUV engine turns, now the radios on

I hear him call out my name

As I run up my lawn

Hand shakes at the door

My keys fall to the ground

Footsteps thump but I don’t turn around

I bang on the door, beginning to drown

As I live in my dreams

He circles me now

The wolf on the prowl, the snicker, the growl

My mother answers the door,

Her lips curled in a frown

What’s the matter? she says,

Looking around

I slam the door shut

And sink to the ground

He can hear us, I whisper

Don’t make a sound

There’s no one outside

She clicks her tongue with contempt

How many times must I say

Never pass that house again.

————————

Sometimes I wish that I were blind

But I would meet him in my mind.