My Hand

Slipped silently into the shower

Holding hands with destiny

She wasn’t quire the beauty of deliverance

But for a moment, she would do.

On her knees she begs me to relent

But I quite like the chase.

 

Water runs down her body

My hand follows behind

Telling her all the things

I’ll never do

To her.

 

I am the epitome of darkness

A promise never kept

A tear meant for someone else

A weed planted in a garden

Carefully tended by the blind.

 

Showers taken in earnest

A bath you forgot to take

Magic kills the mundane

But not before it destroys your faith.

We take part in no rituals

Nor do we sing songs of praise.