There was a time when your gaze was gentle,
Searching me, whole, unquestioned.
An enveloping softness, nesting in your grasp.
And all the while, seeing before me, seeing you.
But now you stand behind me,
Perched for failure, eyes to the fault line.
Failure certain because you stand so close,
Planting your talons in my neck.
Are you waiting for that final moment,
Waiting to pick me dry?
I have nothing left to give,
A sacrificial lamb already fleeced of its meat.
No, the only thing left to collect is the humiliation,
To see me stripped and then made to walk the streets,
Chilling from the inside out, deprived of shelter.
And you all the while still holding the keys, buried deep in my chest.
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