By Parson Thru
Intruder in the corner of my eye
Legs rising, falling, in waves to gain my pillow
Palps raised, entering the sacred pool of light
What else did you expect to find?
Bound in déjà vu
Could it be the light that draws you?
I batted you away, as before
A faithful re-enactment
No harm intended, then or now
One more page, then I need to rest
I’ll brush your Gothic presence to one side
Turn off the light
Excuse me if I don’t acknowledge you
With luck, I’ll be asleep