Hard to write, harder to edit, hardest to watch. Circa 2006. To Edna & Martha, who I watched into decline.
* * *
Self-baked lipstick- cake-dried flesh
marred and brown, polluted,
thin-skinned and bound in mystery-
a witness strong, to steel you firm-
raw hands that reach, desperate,
convinced of some nobility-
I view you lying, covers tossed-
waning moon, sin-scarred voice
in whispered rasp, a victory-
a mark of stark lucidity -
a purpose found- each exhaust
contrasts your lithe fragility-
each smile the last that I might see-
thoughts confound, stealing grace,
profound depths of docility-
sliver of light from closing door
dances past cross pebbled drive-
catch breath at night's agility-
a salty taste- flow starts slowly,
glancing back, a mother's face-
the theft of rude debility.
