whose eyes break through the boundaries
where I begin and end.
I know you know the words
to the stories I cannot tell,
except in the dark, in whispers
when my soul is the only witness
to the brutality my hands possess.
Your shadows merge with mine
without a sound,
without a fanfare,
as like is swallowed up by like.
Down by the river, in the wet night grass
there is nothing worth bothering to hide
from those eyes that break through my boundaries,
because the specter of you
floats effortlessly through my past, my present.
Awkwardly with the manacles you drag around,
your hands grip me fiercely.
I am unafraid,
because I know that sound.
I am a furlough;
I am a fleeting moments' escape
before those chains bind you back down.
So, savagely, under fast moving clouds and stars
I pull you into me
to scream my silent warrior scream
into the deepest parts of you
to give you all of the courage I have learned
and all of the secrets of the damned,
so that they will be yours
if you ever decide to make a break for it.