Jeff Nesvig

She always looks the other way

And Into the memory she likes best

She always holds onto her dreams

Like a bird inside a cage.

 

She walks with the grace Liz Taylor surely had

She never says good-bye

She’s a lady thru and true

She’s moving slow as if she has no place to hide.

 

The world could stop turning and the mighty mountain’s fall

And at the her feet the voice of hunger calls

Needing only the attention from a life so long ago.

 

Hear me now before I go away

This life we’ve traded for a smile

Left with only riddles and a song of exile

To see her as she goes.

 

And as the soft wind blows thru the night

She rests in open fields of summer dreams

Counting the memories she has given

To the voices of hunger that come to call .

 


As the burning sun beats down on the desert sand

She moves quickly

Stopping for a moment to see what lies ahead

In the hidden truth of a rocky stand.

 

Up above in the blinding eye of the sun vultures circle

Waiting for the last breath of silence to feed life

Into the burning desert sand.

 

Then without even a thought

She rises from her bed and looks around her lonely room

Feeling the empty emotion of survival she sits.

 

What has become of a life now two times told

 

In separate songs and different lives

She enters thru the doors of life

One new and the other old and still so much alike.

 

Waiting outside in the desert sand the lizard is still and alive

Watching and waiting for the for the truth to rise

From inside the rocky stand.

 

She spreads her wings above the wind

And thru open doors she flies

Only in a life two times told she sees thru open doors outside.

 

Laced with visions of a life two times told

One new and the other old

She waits outside by the rocky stand

Living lives two time told.

 


soon the shadows on the wall

are that will be remembered.


she moved with the smooth seduction of a reptile

as the room wrapped itself around her

she smiled with the darkness in her eyes.


her shadow stands beside her

while she points a finger of lies into a round window

where her victims stand on the other side.


they stand in wonder as she speaks

believing all of her lies

drinking the sweet taste of her venom

as it drips from the corners of her smile.


and like the black widow 

leaving only memories behind 

she moves around the room pointing at the shadows

that know she will be leaving soon.


with little more than the blink of an eye

the world will see her cry.


they wish not to remember but no one will forget

the reptile's shadow trapped inside her room.



Jeff Nesvig is a writer living in Florida.

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