Can I truly play the part of Philomel?
She who tongueless in captivity dwell
with much to say, and lacking so her speech
must find a secondary way to reach
for someone; something she must say
to rip the truth from where in her it lay
and hold it up so that your eyes may see,
but you are there to play Penelope.
Now any tapestry I weave to show
that which is trapped within this body low
you out of habit take and then unreave
the very thing that I took pains to weave.
So Irony trips circles around me,
though I still love my fair Penelope.
Poetry » Love Rated: K, English, Words: 108, Favs: 1, Published: 4/10/2008