hypnotic or alluring the scratch of the pencil
like a fresh horse just out
spooked by a sound in its mind
the smell around it
not running for the joy
but for fear
behind that imagined scratch
on a sensitive place called bleed me
and so it does, but not blood
a trickle of phantasms
half formed half shapes gaining on you
feeling the fear of the horse words under you
knowing without looking the gallop a leading question
another high cliff just a fall away,
waking up to a future of remembering..
