— Read on Fabric on the Daily Post
What are we willing to give up? What would i find behind your curtain as i swing it aside? Have you, will you, consider letting me know?
I wait. Anticipate. Is this a game eagerly played by two? Or only i?
Am i setting myself up for your opera. Life over as fast as it started. Slow. Drawn out misery. Ending with a cry of freedom!
A peek behind the madness of death exists behind every curtain. It matters not your fabric woven. The rapacious appetite for breath carries us along.
I do not plan to go anywhere. Neither behind your curtain. Or stand before it. I want to be your covering. Shield you from peering eyes.