The neighbors mind. To eye her,
they alternate spiraling the lighthouse,
all their anchors moored at the coast,
more oars approaching from the river fork.
They part the drapes when she passes,
crucifixes pulling at their throats.
And unchaining their frustrations,
they hold her crimes always in mind,
then spit at her likeness they posted all over—
from their cellars to their inner eyes.
They dream of opening her with all their saws,
lugging buckets to collect her flow to the sea.
And lusting, they try to torch her with prayer,
their hair fire-blown like unholy tongues.
But she stands in truths that hold her safe,
and they turn on each other to lie in wait.
Beautiful lines Catherine. This got me thinking.
ReplyDeleteKindly Follow me on my blogspot for updates: terenceaas.blogspot.com
Standing in one's truth is not always an easy thing to do... But Cat you've lived it so it's like better than the alternative 😅 ♥️
ReplyDeleteHa. Thats what I do 24/7, dear;
ReplyDeleteactually, I've done so since
I was a teeny tike 'fall-outta-line':
Im a staunch iconoclastic weeerd-o.
Dont follow orders too well.
Living solely for Seventh-Heaven.
Love you.
Cya soon.
be@peace.