Name of the Game: Shame
Tie your tongue, cross your legs
Close your eyes in the camera’s flash
so that your card stay tucked
tightly like silver spoons in the cupboard
Nestle them nicely, you won’t know
to love them until it’s too late
This shame you hold in hallowed hands
like a wicker to flame unto flowers forged
will become something, somewhere
You will become something, somewhere, sometime
3 thoughts on "Name of the Game: Shame"
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This is really good.
Wonderful poem, great first stanza.
Shame personified!