It had wise eyes
Creeping softly
Treading carefully on my chin
Lining up ideas and weighing out feelings
It studied and scrutinised and pinned down my skin
And walled it up in long sheets – or allowed it to flow out a little,
Listening to its shape
With those –eyes.
What was it that it wanted?
Triumphant I flicked away its dreamed presence,
Discarded the hungered look
And moved on.
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