Intrusion
God! It's like winter!
This chill, this unraveling
I recoil, ashamed as a sowbug
From all the questioning faces
How did you get in my little book?
A wind blew so deafening it shook my roots
Reverberated in my guts
What a swollen bladder of ego
To exhume my heart
To disturb the mortal ruins of my happiness
Rows of unglib mouths
Dressed in sour waistcoats
Prohibit me, I am constipated here
And I never did violence
I only chased the eels into shadows
Yesterday I could name it
I could say it right out loud
I haven't forgotten
My tongue is frozen
And wouldn't you like to know.
(c) Tasha Chinnock 2006
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