The Risk. A poem.

The wash of highlights
on your face
illuminates more
than worry in your eyes.

The antecedent
calls you back
to an enigma,
cold-cast in lies,
a veil that gently
mocks and knocks
upon an antiquated door,
whose wood-rotted timbers
hide a mystery
without clues or sleuths
to solve them.

Your obligation
to reveal these truths,
to open Pandora’s
rough-hewn box
and release the thousand
clawing, cloying
secrets within,
could be far less invasive
(you surmise) than

          a haemophiliac wound,
          bleeding endlessly,
          painfully, righteously

Are the scars worth the risk?
Is it just another enigma
dying for you to solve?
Just another way to get your fix?
Or should you leave
well enough alone?

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

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