stained by your resurrected memories
are the sheets of my mind like our
bed sheets once were but are no more;
dead and buried trespasses surface like old scars,
once superficial now have wormed their way
beneath the surface of my imagined thoughts;
harm's been taken and twice restored but no
more shall I eat your rotted flesh of love and no
more shall I lay with false pretenses and no
more shall you innocently encourage my feelings;
sarcastic comments tainted with life's ironies
are the nightly coverings refreshingly worn
but without the mask of false pleasures adorn;
within the boundaries of first refusal rights
and the gifts of the apprentice's appetite
comes not the role of the serpent, but ours...
26May13
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