Emissaries

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Seen from the corner of my eye

Like glimpsing a stranger,

Oddly familiar, in the crowd.

You have been tipping your hat to me

Since my feet first touched this ground.

I see your minions shimmering

At the edge of sight,

Dark penumbra, uncertain shadows.

 

I hear you whispering.

Voices in the crowd murmuring,

Friendly, and not.

Wherever I go, I hear you,

Click of heel on polished floor,

Shuffle of leaves under boots on the trail,

My breath crescendos to a roar.

 

I feel you, I breath you,

A cool fire burning the body.

My skin tingles,

Tattoos I knew nothing of

Surface on my skin.

 

The scent of perfume

From a barely opened box;

Lingering.

Something is burning,

Where is the smoke?

 

There’s a taste in the back of my throat,

Neither pleasant nor not.

It reminds me of something,

I know not what.

 

Mind is reaching,

Thoughts are racing.

Meandering muses wandering.

Birds hatched without eggs.

Make it stop!

 

I am an émigré,

Stranger in a strange land.

Meaning pours into my glass.

Envoys, emissaries, have been dispatched

From the realm of the Unseen

For quite some time now,

Inviting me home.

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