sometimes

 

sometimes

you will never know

of the silhouette that quietly

picks up the kitchen knife

 

sometimes

you will never know of

the unexpected left hand

that disappears from

our stereoscopic view

 

sometimes

you will never know of

the rubber gloves

and the rambo dagger

nor the chlorofoamed hankerchief

 

sometimes

you will never know of

the secret affairs

of your heart

your liver

and your mind

 

sometimes

you will never know of

the black cat

that stalks you

and moves with poise

confidence

confiding from the silhouettes of

the dark city

 

sometimes

you will never know of

him or her

or life

or life’s doings

 

sometimes

you will never know

till

the kitchen knife pierces

even sometimes

the kitchen knife pierces a million times

you will never know

 

sometimes

you will never know

till

the left hand appears

but only with something in its grasp

and

you

gasping for air

clawing the dark blue abyss of murky water

your eyes staring glaring at the tiny white light

right at the top of the surface

but

…………..

 

sometimes

you will never know

till

the strand of hair is identified

or the bloodstain that takes refuge

from the cold steel of the jagged dagger

actually belongs to a name

 

sometimes

you will never know

till

poise and confidence wears off

and the metal garbage can

topples

and you turn your head

you see its rigid furry black tail

 

sometimes

you will never know

till it knocks at your door

and you open

 

 

“Hello Terence,

its me,

tried calling you,

but you didnt pick up,

so i had to drop by,

its me,

 

LIFE”