let the lying lips be put to silence

Don't presume my innocence
before you speak my name,
we never expected recrimination
through a halo of lies,
the ilk of nature
over nature
courses deep into the night.

Women walk
draped in velvet and taffeta,
callous - weathered
beneath breath they speak
in nakedness,
slow constricted vowels
these words...

"Let the lying lips be put to silence;"
Psalms 31:18,

...ripple across lips,
pulled back
exposing missing teeth,
rotted from the festering venom
pooled under serpent tongues.

I have been split
forked across to halves
or beings,
brittle boned and swathed
in moulding cloth,
here is my birth...

Symmetry bemoans duty,
I made my mother cry
in fits of delinquent temper
as I fell from the peddle stool.
A reflection
cracking under the weight
of a heavy or heavenly virtue

I have turned to stone

Imagery carved under skin
in ink and ash,
we knelt at your alter
alternated positions
to ease your tired back
from the groaning pain
of teaching us our lessons

morality
                humility
                                silence


I can hear music.
She danced  across the water
drifted far out to sea
to sit upon rocks,
calls out the name of
Hades,
begging for him to come -
collect her sin and take it back
beyond the river.

Her vision distorts
contorts with the wind,
aggrieved by the storm
swelling upon the horizon -
akin to the man.

We feel into you
backward until staked
upon  doctrine
upon recollection
gut symmetry.

I am not your passion,
a recreation -
reproduction,
a biological echo of your sin,
the apple of your eye

"who will make me a liar, and make my speech nothing worth?"
Job 24:25,