Dream Poem 18 - Hard Like a Lemon Grater
The quivering woman
in the depths of despair.
The caramel coloured
hare springing gracefully through the field.
“That’s mine”.
I said on a factory
production line. A sealed pack of lard from Italy,
So white and
gleaming, with herbs on top and the thinnest streak of ham running through it.
The thought of going
without him made my heart wring with grief.
Who are you?
My mirror me.
All the emotions and
stories are inside out
And back to front and opposite of what is
going on this side of the mirror.
Don’t worry about us,
we’ve seen you before.
You are all soft and
gentle but we are hard like a lemon grater.
You don’t know how to
speak for the fear in your mouth.
We speak freely and
as rudely as we like.
Who cares?
You smooth over and
placate,
We throw fire bombs
of disaster among polite conversation.
You are a milk
pudding, we distain like lemon juice
We curdle and part
the liquid.
We are the mirror you
and do everything opposite to what you would do or say.
We enjoy inflicting
emotional pain and hurt – we exult in it
We love
disappointment, horror and dis-ease
We love dark and fear
and dangerous situations.
You do not.
We laugh when you
would be silent
And provoke hurt and
prod the sensitive.
We are mischief and
mayhem
We love ruining your
life and relationships.
Sardonic – yes
Pain giver – yes
Unjustifiable cruelty
– yes
And we are
You
Too.
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