Sinew

The tin plate is tacked over my mouth before I can even get the words out.

This body is mine, I breathed into it,

I gave it nutrition, trained it, nurtured it

until it grew enough to have my mind accept it.

Now I’m being told it’s only fit to be measured by eyes and instruments

that clinically access its worth.

To me it is lifeblood,

to them it is meat.

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Palmistry

If we all had our deepest, truest  attribute

etched onto our palms, what would yours be?

Kindness? Never judging, listening to the full story

and helping in whatever way you can?

Bravery? Never backing down, no matter what the odds,

swallowing your fear because there are more important things?

Or is it something simpler, yet not so simple at all?

A concept many take for granted, yet twice as many don’t have?

Self-acceptance. To know yourself, to be okay with it,

but also knowing that wanting to change is fine too,

if you don’t like who you are.

Because accepting that

is to recognise what it means

to be you.

Just you.

Oh, it’s that section of the library, is it?

Books in court,

their words binding the defendant

to the table

wrapping the air with motive,

mystery,

evidence that is pure fiction,

until the jury

stands up and reads

aloud.

The books fall down

blown away,

scattered, pages billowing

like petticoats

in a stiff morning breeze.

Empty nest

The cages swing on silent

chains of air

despite the stillness in the house.

Faces in every window, every mirror, every vase polished to perfection.

Order. Gaunt order.

Detected by the undetectable,

watched by a nest of eyes

invisible to the spectrum.