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.