Emotions are fleeting, but leave shadows in their wake.
They follow stalk-eyed, peering through
magnified lenses–watching as you undress.
the folds of clothing fall in crumpled heaps
and the voices slither from them,
drumming the ear like fingers on a table.
waiting patiently for a reaction.
It creeps across flesh, reaching into the depths
stretching–feeling its way into the creases,
provoking ill-favored sentiment.
They glide down the barrel
twisting a crook around the trigger–
pulling it repeatedly like threads from a hem.
The shadows split the stitching
guarding your heart
and reach into the cavity to retrieve
the soulful cries of
what was lost.