Trespassing

I cannot remember

the idea or the thought that

sent me trespassing your world.

But I know it was curiosity;

it flew down

like a bird escaping the storm,

seeking life thriving in soil

pecked out the earth’s soul

past the sand and past the forests

where arid and rough texture appeared

to lighten up, fade away in air.

I thought your stories were beautiful

to the eye,

their colours I kept in a crystal bottle

through which poisonous thoughts could

not penetrate,

filth could not touch.

And when I felt safe with you,

my heart did not feel another’s heart but

yours,

my eyes did not stare into another’s eyes but

yours.

My mind, fairy tale hungry, trespassed your

world

and fed off the crumbs you willingly

tossed.

I cannot remember

the idea or the thought that

sent me trespassing your world.

But I’m glad I sneaked

for I backed away in time,

before you had the chance

to throw me in your rotten cell.

Anne Watts