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arrogation
arrogation
August night, drowning in my sweat, an ugly
word I will not use again
A sudden gush of cooling air, the curtains
move like a ghost surprised in the armory
of an English castle
the gush is full of crematorium ash, clings
to my face, but in the bathroom mirror
my face is pale and clean
The ash has gone through my skin, followed
the bloodstream to my heart and brain
I now share my body with someone else
a soul that doesn't want to leave
demand more time
There has been a subtle change in me
I have a hankering for tea, no milk
and two lumps of sugar.
I leave the lid down, keep the bathroom
clean, the soap in it's box
The feminine aid of me keeps my coarse
ego at bay
I do not sweat anymore
I transpire
Copyright ©
Jan Hansen
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