A Fear

Blissed out against the sun of day too bright to acknowledge the shade,

The heat does this thing about a mirror,

Reflecting what it's like to draw breath and wade,

And so on and on and on and on until that glimmer in your eye becomes more and more clearer.

Then it disappears,

And I wait,

Listening for my peers building the courage to be volunteers,

To do to me which would spark an urgent hate,

To affirm my fears.

She's gone,

They whispered.

She's gone,

I replied.

She's gone.

She's gone?

She's gone.