17 October 2019

Postcard 181

I was naked and you did not clothe me.
Well, thats not quite true. You wrapped me
with control and draped me with your gaze
Like cut exotic flowers wilting in a vase

But again you strip me naked with your lust
just to fig leaf me with your shame. Then you
spread me across old chain-link and corragate
Flaking shopping bags, brittle water jugs, my

delicious flesh - wasteland trash. Desert junk --
unspooled wire, coppper stripped, abandoned
cars without tires, windows, seats, doors,
ripped of any value, rusting in the sun, brown

as my skin. Single tennis shoes & old t-shirts
You say that I am waste, but you came 
to pick me up in new and shiny trucks, you
had airconditioned rooms to put me in. Even

then, you did not clothe me. You had
doctors come and pull me apart so 
you could spread your gaze within. As if
hate turned on itself was somehow there

As if kindness toward any 
being was your unforgiven sin

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