Door left ajar,
Voices trail off,
Down the outside staircase.
A second thought,
Response,
This one better not to fight,
Then round off down,
To a single number.
Late,
But not too late,
A carriage window,
Watching out,
For what those moments seeded,
Now wasting away.
Hurrying to the abort,
Early warning,
Secret signal,
Hands aligning,
The heart changes,
Fast.
Now.
Before you are seen,
Now,
Before your absence felt,
From back behind you,
Now,
Before excuses expand backwards.
Now,
Down this dark road again,
Now,
Safely away,
Into the blackened beckoning,
Of early midnights.
Hurry.
And now,
She is free,
Once more,
From their glances,
That reckoning,
An ultimatum unstated,
Left lodged between,
His eyes and her better judgement,
Left up there,
Wedged in place,
Hanging over her escape.
She makes it away,
In silence only excepting her own breath,
And carriage wheels rolling.
Heart beat resettling,
Then a slight bump in the road,
Rocks a break… in her dejavu
And quickly she raises her legs,
Checking to see,
With relief,
Still both glass slippers on her feet.
She is free,
This night no longer able to hold her,
Free from clock strikes now,
Midnight will not find her again,
Left it far behind,
On it’s own side of the dark.
__________________________________________
-Peace
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