Dreams of the Paper Woman, again
Pale face, dark wispy hair
And dead, raven-like eyes
A red slash, her mouth
Tall, long hanging arms
And long, sharpened nails
All in black, her bones protruding
She turns to her side
And folds herself under the door
Folds like paper, the Paper Woman
She hides in a shadow; a crease
And waits until you’re in the room
A locked room
Slips out of a crack
And starts unravelling
Until she is tall, again
Cold, musing eyes
And scratching her nails
Against the floor
Toward you, backing up
Backing up
Heart thuds in my palm
Flowing blood, my moving life
Water, Alive!
Or so say The Bible
May I never drink
From the unmoving
Like a fictional vamp
Painted by the lovely Anne Rice
With her lovely mind
Fanning out the leaves
Of my waterlilly
A flowering virgin
Once untouched, free to roam
Uncaged, bound only to gravity
This falling, falling,
Rain falling around me.