Here was I, young, supple, firm to the touch,
And, oh, how I longed for the warm caress of your hand.
You took me in, yet, you have wounded me, my love.
The anguished and distorted smile I wear
is the one you put on my face.
You pierced me and removed my very inner being.
And the candle I hold for you is the one you
placed in my heart.
My love, my cruel love, who has cast me out
from the warmth of your hearth to face the
terror of fiends who would abuse me and snuff
my light forever.
What shall I say to you, my love, who treats me thus:
“Don’t forget to toast the seeds, I hear they’re delicious?”
©2011 James Montgomery