You Smile

You smile.

Your mouth roars as the raging lion
Biting through this bleeding flesh.
You tear through the outer layers of
Skin and meat that hide
The heart that beats inside this dripping cage.

You rip apart these screaming tendons
Of lies and false protection,
Of muscle-bound fear and taut sinews,
A mesh of wire-tight cords of pain
That reap my fear and multiply.

You strip me of this outer layer;
You lay this loathsome mantle aside;
And gaze upon this stinging layer that lies beneath.

You smile.

SPLASH! of burning brine, so scouring,
Watery fire upon my shaking form!
Salty cruel upon this shell,
My hands clawed tight in shrieking rigour,
You strip me of another layer.

You smile.

Razor-edged flint, this scraping knife sharply
Kisses more skin, a single layer,
Pink and throbbing with blood and pus beneath
This paper sheet,
Peeling back this tissue wall
And flooding this space with ugly poison.

You smile.

Rough calico, untreated fibre,
Mopping up this infected mess
Of hate and bitter, fearsome anger,
Drying out this wounded gaping horror
And exposing this final cavern.

You smile.

Sharp lemon sunshine bleach
Scalding into these noisome corners,
Chasing out the oozing excrement of
Memories of nightmares from long ago
That haunt and fill this heaving mire.

You smile.

Not yet the field-fresh daisies and summerbreeze;
Not yet the pure and crystal clear;
Not yet the emerald ocean horizon;
Not yet the daylight’s happy hours.

But you smile,
And out come the stars,
And the twinkling dew,
The birth of something new in me;
An awakening from this anguished being,
A leading away from all I’ve known.

And those stars give rise,
That eternal, celestial map,
To the moon who pulls the sun who pulls the moon;
And I see in your smile a future ahead,
As those first stars from the depth of night blaze in your eyes.

You smile.

At me.