Changeling

There is quickness in your step, an urgency, as you approach. Your eyes masked in secrets, mouth unwilling to release. My eyes catch the heated beating of your core. What do you hold so close? So hard? Eyes darting like an insect, everywhere but here, now. If I were unfamiliar I would think you calm and bright, a jewel of social etiquette, breezy, a smile to entrance. Buried is darkness, an awe of something terrible. I long to slap you. Shock you from pretense. To shout ‘It’s me! Not some inept acquaintance’. Concealed, secretive, immoral. Prying at softened edges, seeking purchase on wary ground. Constraint does not wear well. Friction surfaces coalescing in secure mask. There is no easing, no acquisition to be obtained. Loved friend sealed tight. Defiant stranger sits gazing, emptily, unseeing anxious tender heart. Disquiet curls up and worries the rafters of my mind. Later, distance and revelation parts cloud of bemusement, old friend caught in false theatrics sustaining numerous lies, impossible to contain breaking mind and spirit, rotting forgotten heart. Trust worn yet with time and willingness can be re-earned. 

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