subtext

Which folds of shadow

do I pull tightly around

my tired flesh when alone

and frightened of being alone?

I desire to disappear, to fade

into an insignificance,

to look away from life

 to find some place other,

to whisper a newer space.

Patience atrophies, a dull

ache, deep in a center

I cannot extract with ease.

My secrets exist within

my bone’s striations;

they cling like bats to cave

walls awaiting their portion

of darkness to slip free.