Sitting Here Thinking (2020-2022)

Unmother

I met you today,
a demon clad in a flowery dress.
I shook your withered hand,
frigid in the summer heat.

Considering past foul play,
I suspect you still perform chess,
moving emotions on command
as your words dripped honey-sweet.

You spoke little of him
even after ten years,
me the fresh prey
and he already buried.

I pulled him from that grim
darkness and fear,
led him away
though of you he still worried.

Your lips called me beautiful,
my eyes named you thief,
and, yes, we are happy
but it's none of your business.

I grasped his hand, dutiful,
as you took advantage of grief.
I will protect him, gladly,
and you will steal no more of his minutes.