Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Flannel

To wash away the trace of tears,
the lipstick, broken, bruised,
stark bleeding from tormented lips;
the past would be removed.

The flannel cold and desperate,
the rub and stretch of hurt,
wiped it all from memory;
no truth would be disturbed.

If only it could work this way,
the marriage of the two,
cloth and water cleansed all pain;
if only it were true.


http://margoroby.com/2013/10/01/poem-tryouts-flannel-me-this/#comment-11740

2 comments:

  1. I have such a clear image. A little known, but excellent, movie about the Civil Rights movement here, 'The Long Walk Home', shows the instance when the wife, who is white, realises her bigoted husband and all his friends are wrong about equality. The transitional moment focuses on her hands doing exactly as you describe.

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