Odysseus once hid under a sheep,
escaping the sightless hands of a Cyclops
to sail away unscathed.  

You look into my eyes and
together we laugh at your joke,
joined on the face of things.

But there's doubt creeping through my veins
secrets hitching my voice
and I yearn to fly too close to the sun.

But it seems you are just blind to the fact
that underneath my slight smile,
I'm wondering how to elude us.

Maybe you don't look for those things,
the trouble around the bend. See?
Everything's dark; all I discern is darkness.

You walk away, pin-***** white against the night,
it seems I did not have to hide
for you to free me.