Beware the frigid woman
who can lean upon the stars
but never gather light
or comprehend heat.
She hides what to reveal
would turn her lover’s eyes away,
the scars her daddy left,
the guilt thrown at the pews,
the touch of too many,
the touch of too few.
For strangers she
will fly the moon, for you
she comes home tired
to sleep on nails.
A master of conditional love
she heaps her baggage on the ones
who love her most,
entitlement
the only truth she breathes.
She never goes to where
you'd take her
she only commits to
deception
and stacks of Bibles do nothing
to bring forth truth
I tell you this much
the light across the dawn is more
than just the sun
and everything you give her
will rust.
May 6, 2011
May 6, 2011 at 5:43 AM UTC
Beware the frigid woman
who can lean upon the stars
but never gather light
or comprehend heat.
She hides what to reveal
would turn her lover’s eyes away,
the scars her daddy left,
the guilt thrown at the pews,
the touch of too many,
the touch of too few.
For strangers she
will fly the moon, for you
she comes home tired
to sleep on nails.
A master of conditional love
she heaps her baggage on the ones
who love her most,
entitlement
the only truth she breathes.
She never goes to where
you'd take her
she only commits to
deception
and stacks of Bibles do nothing
to bring forth truth
I tell you this much
the light across the dawn is more
than just the sun
and everything you give her
will rust.
Previously published at ****** and Novocaine, December 2012
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