It's the words
beneath the words
that frighten me.

Scattered and hidden
in the back of my mind,
on scraps of paper,

(in the silences) .

Bold as a burp
I sometimes dropp them carelessly,
in midsentences, in startled
gaps of mundane conversation.

I lose them to the hungry air,
my real portrait, untouched
glossy face.


(Written for my friend - Carole Clark)

Cheryl Lynn Moyer Peele

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/real-portrait/