The Watchman – Lucy Willingham

With an anthropological intent

laced with introspective concern

he observes the people below

the watchman is watched

with desire so heavy

it is heaved along with her every breath

until it is ragged she fears

she’ll drop to the floor

shattered as the glass he sent carelessly to the ground

the night before

Music reverberates through his place

strange beats under unfamiliar categorizations

she fails to grasp the importance of the nuances

detected by the regulars

the scene’s loyalists have ate, slept and respired these rules

they have offered them safety

in the subcultural

realms of her city

though not a stranger to such woes

she cannot fit

even here

where the criteria for belonging

is not to

teetering on the edge of

microcosms in which lives are formed and conformed

He ached for her

lay down for her

made an ashtray out of his palm for her

as a queen she was responded to

with a tenderness so brilliantly, gorgeously new.

So what occurred

between now and then

to so drastically change his behavior?

some slip

a loose end

she let unravel

and walls came rushing up from the earth around him

barricades that beguiled her

a cold and cruel tone

played for her ears

from the uncertain dark she climbed

clawing all the while at the steel that had grown thick between them

as he roughly took her body for his pleasure

tender attempts slid off his surface

as drops of oil on water’s face

inside her mind she pleads with him

forgive me! she cries

but what was to be forgiven?

was her offense so vile?

had she engaged with too much pride?

She reasons with his inebriated state

his fear of intimacy’s betrayal

if only she had the hands of time within her own

to manipulate

she would revive his ardor

to which she had so quickly accustomed

she will wait

she will watch

knowing all the while

the odds are against her.

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