Duende

To hide,
up rocky crevices, footing precarious, ankle strong, teeth at my neck,
He's coming.
Cloud as black as a cave desposes thoughts of the sun
Run,
Dreams I am twisting devils in slime writhe to the beat of the snake charmers
whip
Across my back,  hands around my neck, I'm crushed
Oppresive
Arms around my shoulders body in a vice can't breathe can't walk
losing control
his puppet
his voice
his brain
Level land, barren. dry underbrush. briars, like razor wire wrap around
my legs
blood flows
He's coming
with his dark cloud, to suffocate me in delicious pain where at
least I feel
something.