Washed Hands

Lollipop kisses (sticky sweet) Impress their nectar upon your whiskered cheek: Your hand absently wiped away their adolescent aftertaste. Despondent arms: Outstretched for a reassuring (pretentious) hug Grasp only the stale air of your indifference Breathed upon my naively upturned face: Smothered in incognizance. Does it mystify? That I have excommunicated myself from Your well rehearsed pleasantries? Your hypocritical attempts to condone justification of Your displaced loyalty simply compounds the situation. Your bed is not mine to lie in - Your rules no longer mine to follow. Perhaps now you will be the one to recite fairy-tales On feather-filled pillows, as silent tears cascade down Self erected barricades, puddling by your cheek... Pray you never hear the lone hoot owl As he waits impatiently by your grave... (approx. 1999)