A Poem For All Prisoners
I have been a teacher of tenderness
a wet nurse to pain
I have cut keys to lost locks
entered rooms without doors
walked through walls thick as death
thrown open the prisons of the heart
and seen the skeletons embrace
but like a broken arm
the mind finally molds itself
to the cast that surrounds it
and after a while
every prisoner becomes
his own guard
I have watched you patrol
your own periphery
confiscate contraband emotions
I have beaten myself against you
breathless
like a moth against light
but there are no visiting days
the skin search goes on
I suspect you of harboring concealed passions
I have felt you tremble
shake yourself down
shoot yourself trying to escape.
~ Mary Mackey~
THE DEAR DANCE OF EROS