Like the way hammer meets nail
Like it was owed to them
The colors of an eternal cycle
Fading with the wash cycle
Dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding
And like a baby I'm dependent on them
To feed me
And the rinse cycle
Like there was something more they wanted than the journey
The plot hard to follow
I am a work in progress
Offering me intricate patterns of questions
Steel toed they walk
Carving a rough history of bedroom scenes
The text obscured in the fields of sheets
In the threshold of the room
And I'm wondering why this fear of men
Pounding out the rhythms of attraction
The sound of them strong
A cycle broken
Like my name misspelled or misspoken
Maybe it's because I'm hungry
Pounding, they say
Stalking, talking about their prey
Again an unfamiliar smell
Like a woman was a drum like a body was a weapon
Red and brown like leaves fallen
Door scraping floorboards with every opening
Slowly gathering the stains of seasons spent lying there
