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Rupert Hine

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Rupert Hine

Eleven Faces

I feel the blood of a reptile run
Through the veins of a child
And should my eyes trick my memory
Will the beast shed his skin in the wild

The screen is lit
And there they stand
In single line
A column of figures
That totals something different - everytime

Perhaps his face was wiped away that night
To leave some other that I'll never recognise;
Do I remember how he held the woman down
His shadow made a pool so deep she had to drown

Eleven faces
Blank and taunting
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Through the glass
A swarm of eyes
I didn't see before - now wait for me to pass

Perhaps his face was wiped away that night
To leave some other that I'll never recognise;
Do I remember how he held the woman down
His shadow made a pool so deep she had to drown

Ten faces melt away until there's only one
And someone murmurs now, you must decide

I feel the blood of a reptile run
Through the veins of a child
And should my eyes trick my memory
Will the beast shed his skin in the wild