"Hello, Officer."
What a grim thing to say
Although it isn't always bad
Unfortunately that day
is not today
You entered my home
And sat me down
A chalice from my
Splintered cupboard
Within my castle amongst
The trailers
I get paid the most out here
I know you'll think it's my fault
So I carefully ask
"May I have a glass of water?"
And soon I am relaxed
We fall into conversation
How's the weather? Where have you been?
Perhaps this wouldn't be so hard
Officer,
if he were not your son
You comforted me that night
My tender skin was darkened from
the fight
My husband way back then
Just never quite knew when to stop
He smelled you on my tongue
The flavor bitter to sweet
His envy turned him green
But officer I must ask you,
Did you see the last straw?
Their eyes are different, hair and then the teeth
He's the spitting image of the deputy
Who put my husband down a peg
You showed me a real man
But your son will never meet him
Because my husband
way back then
Would rather be a monster
Than atone for his sins
Officer don't cry, I am numbed to my core
The only thing in my mind
Is how unbelievable it is
To make a casket that small
YOU ARE READING
WAX & SATIN
Poetry-"The Southern Gospel of the Southern Gothic. It always turns out to be a small town where everyone knows your name. The depraved are washed in blood, pleasure is found in dark places. Thankfully, there's still church on Sunday morning." A.E.Edward'...
