Sometimes,
We think they hide from us.
– those words,
Those thoughts,
the creatures in the shadows.
Sometimes,
We think
We may know better.
And grasp, and grapple, and think.
Train that pale Demon
that made their home
under the stairs (to your heart)
But what, if sometimes
we sat there for a while,
Our backs resting on the newl.
What if we slowed,
And hummed sweet nothing.
What could distil in the shadows?
What colours could tan that pale skin?
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