He lurks behind the
lamp-post
Circling throughout
the day
Around the turn of a
book
The musty smell
agrees.
Thrill. Pleasure.
Comfort.
In the eyes of a
tear
When the loved one
goes
In the invitation
Of the town's
seductress.
Lust. Pain.
Jealousy.
He creeps to the
mind
Of a wife
Knowing her man
His smell; not his
anymore.
Doubt. Drama. Love.
The cry of an eagle,
Yellow specks
running
And the mother hen's
underbelly
Fear. Wonder.
Hunger.
In death, in life,
in light, in dark
Dancing to a tune
that He alone knows
Like a flame burning
a forest
He steps to your
moves as well
Watching. Listening.
Laughing.
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