Hugs
and goodbye kisses
exchanged
in the wee hours of the morn
between strangers.
Minds sober up.
Memories of drunken actions sink in:
revived,
revitalised.
Regret and reprove resurface,
silent promises made to self
Whispered
in repentant hearts.
The cold morning air bites,
hands clasp together to create warmth.
These hands caressed
And
gently seduced to a climax.
These hands that embraced skin
These hands that have raised glasses of liquor
Up
and up
into the air
and allowed wine to soothe dry throats,
Now tightly folded beneath clothes,
Will be raised in praise on Wednesday mass,
on Sunday mass
giving thanks
to the Lord Almighty.
Blasphemy.
Blasphemous hands.
Held in delicate reverence,
clasping the whisper of a contrite
repentant prayer
these hands should be cleansed.
Blasphemous hands.
Blasphemous hands.
courtesy of Storyzetu
0 Responses
i like the poem
🙂
I knw am behind with ths post..
Interesting point of veiw..asin the veiw with which the subject has bn approachd.. very interesting..