There's a man following me,
Always lurking
On the edge of unconsciousness,
Floating three feet higher than he should.
I haven't decided if it's God,
Or Dad,
Or Great Uncle Percy-
Who's bookcase lives
In the bedroom on the left
Under a display of poisonous teacups -
Or maybe none of the above.
My overly vivid imagination
Tricks my eyes on
More than one occasion.
Still,
His image,
Not nearly as frightening as hers -
That terrible woman last night
Who tried to eat me whole -
Is a constant companion,
A chilling Maurice,
Warning me of a future
Even he couldn't escape.
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