Peach tea

i hope you can see my future
in dripping peach tea leaves,
chemically bloated with sweetener
until the silver edges and feminine handle are sticky with syrup

what do the dredges whisper to you, teller?
cup your generosity and gift it to me,
for i am a cold-hearted beggar, nothing but 
a skin-cage holding rattling, shivering bones

when you clasp my hands, weather my rage
how i long to march, somberly, into the stained-glass castles,
to curse them all, princesses and feeble maids alike, 
for their pale laughs, lollipop facades,
their unknowingness about what’s to come!

ebony clips, striking figure
i hide greed and strife underneath my tongue
they slip slowly, under my burning intent, pulsing from 
deadened lips and croaking throats, 
for Love is the most painful sword, the harshest words,
the temptation that compels one to destroy

inside, i seeth, but outside, i am prim
the flavor is quite nice today, the peach rather refreshing
no honey please, sucralose is fine
my unease chases manners, tears come with the expression of innocence, 
but the bleached leavings are abandoned
and prophets piously forgotten.