Crawl Space
The wall winds dark
& broken, vacant whir from lack
of air. Flies whisper
past the wandering city.
The blind one’s fingers drag
across a star map. Here,
he hums, no one will find
your thoughts. Nestled & lonely.
I wait until the tapping stops.
Use a frayed piece of rope
to note my path. Gather
what I trip over to feed hunger.
Here is quiet. Absence of history.
No one screams how much more.
If you stumble upon my secret, beware.
I wield a silver whip covered in blue pins.
