5 of 84

by Theresa Nyenhuis

I watch him
With out any love
All of the old valour a thin, velvet exterior.
Nothing more luxurious than make believe.

Imaginary cake on a pretend plate,
Like all of the afternoons when I would pant and fake.
And lie about the truth
Now I know that you would like it,
If I died
If I made the grand gesture and refused to survive.

The old honour and the old obey
Gone and gone and gone.

Imaginary submission to an ethereal whip.
I watch you,
Dissimilated,
Almost incinerated
by years of lies
of fakery,
of false words
and false hopes.

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Poetry: Bitter

by Theresa Nyenhuis

Poetry: Bitter

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