Old lace, barely strung together,
Held by incense and hope,
Thoughtfully fingering
Starlit strand of hand-me-down pearls.
White-clad, once-touched, sacrificial virgin,
Impatient young goddess dressed in waiting,
As always…
Indiscretion offered to the night
Gasped in the back seat of some car,
Trusting those shotgun promises
Chained now to her sanctioned altar of love,
Leaves the impossible child weeping,
Supplicating hands held trembling
Accepting
Rock candy diamond mood ring;
She’s told is a token of love.
Hanging on yesterday’s dreams,
Outside sheltered void.
It’s a lifetime of hard housework,
Tinged with daily vodka regret
Add it up.