Routine Nightly Routine

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2009/10/03
Routine Nightly Routine

The house breathes deeply, usual for the hour
when to their fancies angels dreams devote
except where one gets shoved into the shower,
a kitchen knife waved crudely near her throat

so she'll behave, while all the others sleep
like floating in some forest's hidden pond.
A washcloth's stuffed into her mouth to keep
her quiet while she's pressured to respond.

Like hide and seek her cousins chase their rest
into each laughing game their thoughts can find
to use for play.  Her own must get undressed
for feeling up then taken from behind.

One darling stirs half-waking as though roused
then slips back to dark shadows seen within
the secrets guilt from innocence has housed.
The bruise inside is all that marks a sin.

The darkness settles back into a snore
like tiny wings escaped in naïve flight
far distances. What she's been brought here for
will get itself brought back tomorrow night.

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2 Responses

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  1. poetryfromthebackofmyhand said, on 2009/10/04 at 12:04

    loved it, so original

    • lady maggie said, on 2009/10/04 at 13:06

      if only the act that inspired it were not quite so unoriginal

      thank you for being here

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