Secrets

infesting my half-
sleep…

did you enter my
wound from another
wound

brushing mine
in a crowd…

or did I snare you on
my sharper edges

as a bird flying
through cobwebbed

trees at sun-up
carries off spiders on
its wings?

Secrets,

running over my soul
without sound,

only when dawn
comes tip-toeing
ushered by a suave
wind,

and dreams disintegrate
like breath shapes in
frosty air,

I shall overhear you,
bare-foot,
scatting off into the
darkness….

I shall know you,
secrets
by the litter you have
left

and by your bloody
foot-prints.