By sarah iristakeroot@powerlynk.com
Date: 15 August 2000
hester
mystery unfolded
the beer is stale upon the shelf
with a slight
puddle stain
underneath
stale cigarette smoke
hangs in the air
and pouty red lips
allign themselves with a glass
pint raised in absolution
holy father, forgive me...
for i am about to sin
drumming nails on wood
nails on back
clawing nails
desperation nails you
crucifixion
that which i know i
do not hide
and that which i hide
i pretend not to know
an di know that you are in
my flesh and crawling under me
like a scarab eating
away at whats left
you've devoured what you've been given
and gave no promises of giving
it back
at least you could have some mystery
to you instead of this blatant-ism
your an ism,i make you an ism
what would you do if i covered you
with red lipstick
could you erase the scarlet i put on you
with a ripe letter a
your my hester
and i'm only a television flipping
channels trying to find peace
instead of fuzz after 2 am
Back to the Heart-on-Sleeve Corner