Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Thirty Nine . . . 

Displaying photo 5.JPG
Photo by Karin

essential imperception
by Stormcat

dressed, made up to perfection

a thick knit tube of finest black cashmere lined with stands of luxurious fur
slid silently over arms, 
from shoulders to knees
a smooth white ribbon of finest silk, round my neck, embellishes

enter, head held high with look of

never even noticed it happening
until too late and realized
that I, bound and led around,
had sold myself into slavery

 Copyright 2014 All rights reserved


  1. I read this as someone being a slave to excess or image or material things or status...nice surprise turn at the end...

  2. I guess we've all sold our souls for some sort of demon. Mine is different than yours, I couldn't care less about attracting attention to myself.

    Excellent poem.