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