YOUR RETREAT

You float upon the gown of your eternal governess
The memory of it preys upon you
Like a dirty insect that time cannot crush

You speak in Italics
To hide the fact that your voice still bleeds

You have achieved this insight
Through the use of your waspish grin

Though you fight against this maternal ceremony
Your flight is pre ordained
And you must continue to order your retreat

If you fail in this quest
You will fall upon the blackened leaves
Of even the most intoxicating dream