She smiled
the kind of smile
that shows only teeth

I offered
You are the type of person
who strips away the flesh
revealing what others
would leave buried

Were you expecting applause
You taunt them with your levity
The way you carelessly cut them
with all those sticks and stones
you carry around

Tell me
How can they worship you
if you snatch away all their flesh
There will be
No lips to kiss your hand
no tongues to speak your praise
And having released the heart birds
from their rib cages
No one to sing your glory

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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