Thursday 2 October 2014

New Poem: Running Away

I was in the High Street, late. Just the

street lights. The department store

that isn’t there anymore was up ahead.

One of the doors opened. Someone

came out. And then someone else.

They were naked. And smooth.

Then another one. And another. All

of them naked and smooth. Soon there

were ten or eleven of them. None of

them had hair. Or shoes. And they

weren’t walking. Or running. More like...

sliding. Their arms didn’t bend. Or their

legs. The street lights shone on their

backs. Their faces didn’t move. They

didn’t speak. They had no eyes.