It’s okay buttercup, come take a sip.
It weeps if you will of sheer deceit.
A parable a book of sweet notoriety.
Look and see don’t be shy to me.
Sit quietly, fight internally with those open books.
Skirt worn legs, hair a mess, caress pages for lessons you undressed.
You knew in one look.
I was the figure for every lesson you never took.
© G.P Williamson 2018