Sister

to be everyone we see we wish to be spoilt infidelity was the fragrance of our tragic continuum century of longing longing thee favored face dressed in tailored knit smiles on Tuesday’s sin oh father are we seen as the misery kin ants rise on Lilies in the teary meadow land we shall remain oh rightfully damned Blistering coils of copper tension make haste tangy veins peel back their mantle to self inject a poison of good-natured taste shudder of the mind with fine paper cut wrinkles we make fingernail grind to season the sense breaking spoons for chains and stakes head loss of screws We should shatter the bones within him And break the ill-tempered man As we once found Ourselves Broken