Revelation

I knew it. I knew
that the stale smell of your touch
was rooted in baseness
My writing reveals
what my head would not admit.
Your groping and chiding
testy game.
Swaddling me in satin
flogging me with bitterness
I knew.

Then was it vengeance
that took me to the edge?
I spat out my vitamins
and took the drug
I passed the time in naughty blindness
and withheld the truest words
that paper ever thanked me for
It was too true,
I knew.

In my fixation I sanctified your profile
you were high priest to my sinning
but what strange fire
went up in place of my prayers.
I want to strike you with lightning
I want to suffer for your transgressions
How can we pardon
what we always knew?

(c) Tasha Chinnock 2006