Creep-IN

Written by Katharine Wood

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You’re walking

in rattle tattle streets.

The darkness tickles

and he’s a Creep

                                    in.

HIGH-heeled shoes,

bruised knees and brains-

toxic juices and he’s

 

        a CreepIN.

 

Glassy people,

Swaying at corners.

Cracked and roasted

in late night shine.

But he’s Fiiiiine and Creep-in,

Closer AND

                    Breathing

                              AND

                                     Sweating

                               

In the sour air

of late night purges.

With a quickened step

of cutting heels.

 

Down graffiti lanes

from thumping lights,

to this empty quiet-

maze.

 

In quaking turquoise dress,

 your feet slip

                       on gravity

and the night shatters.

 

Monday’s migraine awakens,

pushing off drunken pavement.

It’s time to go home

and you’re a limp-

                                   IN.