by Kahlen Ryba

Created on: January 23, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

Giants In The Air...

what is it?
what do you want?
you who come through the shadows like a killer in a film noir.
i cannot see you, but i feel your presence,
behind me,
lingering at my back like a bad habit,
inside me,
haunting me because i let myself be haunted.
the smell of burnt leaves fills my nostrils,
and i breathe in deeply
because i love the smell
and it suddenly changes to

the rotting smell of deadness and decay,
and it makes my stomach want to lurch
because i was expecting something else,
but i did it to myself.
my apartment is dark, and has been for days.
i have slipped in and out of it like a child molestor,
stealing into his next door neighbor's daughter's room,
watching her sleep as she dreams of the bright shadows
she spent the day stomping on,
the brilliantly colored leaves she tucked around her
after she jumped into the pile her daddy had raked just for her.
i stand in the shadows and watch her sleep,
her nightlight illuminating her sweet face,
not yet marred by the doubt and insecurity and failure
that comes with age.
behind those tightly closed eyelids
slumbers eyes of innocence and ignorance,
the eyes that should always go hand in hand,
forever,
but with time, they slip away from each other,
as two giants floating in time,
intertwined in body and mind.
the shadows come and they are pulled from each other,
devoured,
forgotten.
my breath quickens as i remember last night,
the night before,
last week, last month, and the smell of it turns my stomach,
writhing it into a disgusting, sexual sneer.
my inner thighs jump with the memories,
the words,
but the dark apartment of my mind shall be
the only place this child molestor may find solace.
nowhere can he escape,
can he become content,
find the things that would make him so.
this is not his world.
he lives in the shadows, and most people
do not reside there.
they only make vacations there late at night,
to entertain themselves for awhile, and then
return to the world of light, where shadows
are only those things on the ground
that little girls
who love leaves
like to step on.

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