They look at you
and your clothes tell a story
of last night.
White shirt
strangers hair all over it –
it’s like the last straw
to their tolerance.

To your innocence,
that you lost
at the same time
you lost your mind.

(And clothes).

Thin stitchings of dignity
got ripped
as you were sitting on the lap of a stranger.

See-through tops
see-through minds
mesh together into a thinning net,
that sets such a strong foundation
for new victims to be caught
and savoured by your lips.

Your shoulders move
in the direction of their gazing eyes,
and you can tell,
that slowly
you are twisting
one of them
around your fingers
and your toes.

Count them.
Give them names.
You’re famous after all.

– Chatty Owl –

33 thoughts on “BEHIND THOSE SHADOWS

  1. JK says:

    But what if I want to be twisted around her see-through-top finger? What if I’ll happily fall into the net for the savor of those lips? Is that bad?

  2. ρöετις says:

    I really enjoyed this. How something as serious as this poem could ever be confused with or remind anyone of ridiculous celebrity circus sideshow bullshit is way beyond me! I guess not everyone has the intellect to see the depth and layers to your poetry but from one who can, brilliant stuff my dear!

  3. ramblingsfromamum says:

    First – sorry but for some reason the twerking that Miley Cirrus sprung to mind..mybad… you did put me in the ‘spot’ – the alluring, the deceit… another great write Ms Owl. x

  4. Rosh says:

    Oh the walk of shame….
    Yet you manage to put a somewhat controlling beauty on it ( if that makes sense)
    Anyway…amazing as always owlybutt…truly.

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