Daymare

The breath of my spirit was filled and stilled in those pools.
The shape of truth slowly took form and came hobbling up to me. One good leg was all it ever needed.
It spoke with a click of closing jaws.
And I could hear the unspoken cliches.
The difference between lie and true dripped
with each graceful slip
in its hunger fueled saliva.
I followed with blind eyes the falling drops and reached to block as they raced to meet dirt.
The hunger seeped into my skin
then rolled the long way down my chin.
Will this need forget me now?
Sealed wish with silent lips for a no.
One heart heavier it turned and strolled down the lane.
On two good legs.