Purity and righteousness poached
Black and White, were his preferred colors
His discomfort; alleviated mine,
for a little while,
he let me know when it was necessary again;
restraints juddering on the copper
I examined his naked anatomy,
under an iridescent light, contusions and
lacerations of periwinkle and cobalt ribbons
patterned the surface, maturation, biology,
eliminated the evidence
yet, the specters had set out to
permanently engrave his anguish on the
forgotten mausoleum walls of his amygdala
His ravenous mouth, was a trough
digesting slices of caked soot,
teeth stained of brilliant grey from
yesterday’s regurgitated rations;
Indeed, the same meal that his autocrat
and waif orphan caregivers were fed,
a recipe handed down from generations past,
for they knew no better
I fed his gluttonous jaws candied
morsels of glazed guilt,
as gleaming as the silverware that
was used to nourish him
The feeding spoon projected a
warped image, enough to reveal my reflection,
obscured, my face wry, confused and odious
I looked away
The frosted ground met the sun that day in March,
summoning the resurrection of all that was dead,
the long slumber was coming to an end
Uncomfortable, and terrified
I returned to see him, his face reflected mine
I listened, I understood, I forgave
Liberated and no longer concealed,
the child left peacefully in the
tranquility of spring
Sep 13, 2020
Sep 13, 2020 at 10:10 PM UTC
Purity and righteousness poached
Black and White, were his preferred colors
His discomfort; alleviated mine,
for a little while,
he let me know when it was necessary again;
restraints juddering on the copper
I examined his naked anatomy,
under an iridescent light, contusions and
lacerations of periwinkle and cobalt ribbons
patterned the surface, maturation, biology,
eliminated the evidence
yet, the specters had set out to
permanently engrave his anguish on the
forgotten mausoleum walls of his amygdala
His ravenous mouth, was a trough
digesting slices of caked soot,
teeth stained of brilliant grey from
yesterday’s regurgitated rations;
Indeed, the same meal that his autocrat
and waif orphan caregivers were fed,
a recipe handed down from generations past,
for they knew no better
I fed his gluttonous jaws candied
morsels of glazed guilt,
as gleaming as the silverware that
was used to nourish him
The feeding spoon projected a
warped image, enough to reveal my reflection,
obscured, my face wry, confused and odious
I looked away
The frosted ground met the sun that day in March,
summoning the resurrection of all that was dead,
the long slumber was coming to an end
Uncomfortable, and terrified
I returned to see him, his face reflected mine
I listened, I understood, I forgave
Liberated and no longer concealed,
the child left peacefully in the
tranquility of spring