She walks to bed afraid
heavy
her shoulder steadies
almost feeble
she hides from fear
Marcela's eyes a living dark
pushing within a hiding head
shadows choosing shapes behind her back
its dark in there
the house freezes
counting the shapes
unfamiliar steps
Marcela's thrown
grasps at the hallway
ghosts threatening high
stuck on old photographs
pouring her eyes open
a fiery black
on the floor wrapped in a blanket
painful eyes row

Quickly and calm
the entire house cramped with boots
each whisper fit
like snow covering in the night
mind glows against trudges
not face
through reluctance voice
her mind deep
her talk is next
Lindsey peels
Marcela slips out
ignores the night
she can swish seven faces
trudges of aisle
from whipser seat desperation
pleading
Marcela entire voice

under a humming dream
beautiful seconds within a echo
she's haunted
shapes at her feet
something dark
a quiet hum hits like a echo
there is no surface
just a beautiful panic
shapes every instance
above a stark inky cool

circles squares and triangles
shapes I learned as a kid
I trace them on your spine
I smile as you wiggle
your best attempt not to move
fingers move to make 3 points
like sliding on silk
my fingers skate across your body
tracing shapes from memory

There is a lion in the hallway
I put on my mask
a simple facade
has me holding my breath
walking quietly like a whisper
through the trees
my lungs feel tight
I inch my way past
almost bursting at the seams
I hold onto our memories
take breathes from my heart
I am over the hill
out in the fields
surrounding by tall grass
hidden within the flowers
safe
I close my eyes
dream to live another day

rain taps on my window
drifting off to sleep
by the beat of mother nature
above the clouds and I am flying
listening to a story
straight from collective memory
I ponder
who's thoughts are these
and who is sharing them with me

a window pane
captures an underground world
a cropped photo
a moving picture
sees the outside world in a frame
a consistent 3 second movie
kept current by time