Pearly whites twisted upward.
Mischief? Glee?
Neither.
Fantasy maybe,
Emerging from the brink of a shadow
Looming, with slight effort perhaps,
But never really showing what dwells
Behind the cheer. Swift giggles and glances
Do you understand these advances?
Are the words standing out
Like a bright flash on a night target?
Should we flip it so it makes more sense
To show how tense
Sitting on the fence has left the dial?
Will remaining on a branch
Attached to memories, experiences,
Illusions created by wandering minds
Provide us with a measure?
Or should the Cheshire
Reveal the truth behind the smile?
