The Clay Man
I see you outside my window.
A splash of black clay in the darkness
molded by countless hands.
You are all colors together.
All fears and suppressed memories
squeezed empty of remorse.
I hear you outside my door.
A hundred shuffling footsteps in the dust
moving across still waters like the fog.
One will, whispering moistly with many voices,
yet unheard by any save me.
I feel you under my feet.
A tremble in the black earth.
A thousand fingers pressing towards me,
grasping in the heavy darkness,
driven mad by the throbbing pulse in my veins.
I know you.
You have been here before.
come in and sit down. Let me pour you a drink.
You’ve come for my company once again.