Summer night, rain-heavy clouds, shadowy
Light entered our bedroom, I listened to her
Rhythmic breathing, sweet music, tangled
Life, conflicting currents, she washed upon
My shores, penniless, all she owned in camo
Backpack. For now, I’m not prepared to share
Her name, aside from Chimera.

You may have seen her type before, at 
Traffic intersections, hustling for cash,
Food, place to spend the night. That was
Two months ago. Yes, I brought her home,
Told her to strip at cottage backdoor,
Clothes in washer, cold shower outside,
Hot oily bath, clean beginnings. 

What emerged PJ-clad? Tempestuous soul,
Navigating harm, unsilenced song, desiring
Food: coffee, fresh fruit, egg omelet, bacon,
Last of fresh yeast rolls. More bacon. Yes, an
Outstretched hand. Thankful, reaching hands
Not her style. Was she misplaced gem or
Just life’s flotsam? Answer lies somewhere
In between, quiet movements in my bed. 

My sleeping Chimera, I imagine us as twin
Tides, holding you at night, you’d never be
Alone, sea breeze rippling briny waves. Yet,
I suspect you are trouble disguised, on best
Behavior for place to stay until whenever.
Am I right, or wrong? Late night hour, have
I fallen for bright eyes, sun-burnished face,
Hair, sturdy hands, inked, muscled arms? 

Written whilst listening to “Not Alone” (Tiny Paper Clips),
featuring MILCK, KPH & The Canary Collection. 
Thanks for reading about this “Chimera.”    

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