Encounter

My first encounter?

I am thinking

of a weeping candle;

Of shadows bloodying the silence

under a midnight moon;

Terrible blind eyes all around –

under the bed,

beside the desk,

holding my pen;

of hairs rising like tombstones

on the front of my arms;

of the sudden stillness

that punctuates the black gloom;

of the scratch of nether fingernails

and the paleness of an unseen watcher;

of the soft dread of whispered breaths

promising death and union

to the living waiting to die;

of the shocks that shiver down my spine

and vanish into the cobwebs;

of the love in that soul

ripped, mauled, savaged beyond recovery;

of the swallowed scream

that drowns in my throat;

as slowly, now, and now, and now,

I begin to feel its foul sighs

upon my bare neck.

The clock ceases its ticking.

A flash, a scar of yellow eyes

and it’s here.

Then I walk to the backyard

and see, in the mirror

a stranger’s grin.