Wrap Me

Disguised
As a fugitive bird
In the tall of her grass
When the foxes are out

With eyes
Like a kerosene lamp
When the wick doesn’t last
And the flame is burnt out

But I
Know a place to escape
Where the world doesn’t see
And the foxes won’t tread

Inside
There’s a labyrinth of shapes
And the essence of me
Like the words in my head

Wrap me in metaphors
Cover me in lines
Paint me in cadence
Cradle me in rhymes
I will find peace here
If no one finds me
So you be the rhythm
And I will be the poetry

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