The room is gray,every shade of shadow
a woman can find in a man
present and accounted for.
Sanity questioned in this light,
moral deviations heavier
than imagined, and backsliding
the easiest mode of transport.
Lines in the skin of her hand
show her true age, so wide
they could be filled with concrete
mixed by the light of these blank walls.
She thinks it would keep them
out of trouble. They have a mind
of their own, make her pay generously
for thin freedoms.
Such a word
on the lips for long.
Aleathia Drehmer 2009
Published by Brainbox Press in the print anthology "Holy Spectacles!" 8/09