Sunday, 28 August 2011


She spins her cocoon
Weaves the layers thick around her
Inch by inch
Fostering a cushy thickness
Loosely at first
Building a delicate shell
Layer upon layer

She who hungers
Who ploughs and sows and reaps and bides
She who bears the glacial brunt of bodily rime
And withstands the capricious change of season
Who reserves the right
To be three parts hot
And six parts cold

She who plays animal kingdom
In the glorified and giddy human realm
Turns bilious beast upon threat
The tightened strain of her falsetto shrill
Disarming in alacrity
She who lay in wait
She who is

With seasonality comes change
Firm footed in the conviction of her own love
Yet blithely unaware
Of the magnetism of her newly engorged marrow
Be it a hegemonic push
Or an overtly oppressive pull
Influenced by stimuli one way on first glance
And another on reinspection
She is doggedly plagued
Finally assuaged

My heart isn't always consistent
But it's always right
It never fails me
And that's more than I can say for you
Because you've failed me enough
And fuck you if you can't abide that
Because I no longer abide you

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