June 21, 2011
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The story let out its tale
Impossible, irretrievable, yet it is stale
No longer, like ocean’s salty maids
Throbbing and thrusting,
Raped then paid, fingered by the waves.

But I forgive you, and I depart,
Add you to my chart
Of those to stay away from,
Old men so tempting so sincere, but I must fear
And rebirth myself, although not Born Again.

I myself deserve the credit, a personal deliverance from sin
Not as publicized as other cases but as real.
And I lock you in the corner of my mind that I once locked myself.
And I leak the story to those who can’t handle it.
And I know, you know, you will never be as confined.

But I am learning, I recover and heal,
Open the wounds only enough to feel.
I understand, and grow, and see,
May all the future Masters be
Another lesson sucked dry of pain—
Stories, fables, lessons of the insane—
Three words, soft and sweet:
“I love you,” left me weak.

Now you can be the one lost in the Labyrinth, unable to speak.

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