Monday, August 19, 2019

Graphite ~ Monday, 19 August 2019

Fingers hold the pencil 
in hand with a firm grip, 
nudging carbon along, 
gaining understanding, 
erase mistakes, move on, 
religiously learning 
simple curves in cursive, 

hold the pencil in hand, 
on the left or the right, 
little does it matter, 
despite what teachers say, 

the days of the witch hunt 
have passed, paranoia 
eclipsed within darkness, 

people act sinister, 
even dexterous ones, 
nobody is perfect, 
cutting with x-acto, 
in lovely cursive arcs 
learned as a child in school, 

insisting his teacher 
not move an inch, lay still, 

he knows what he's doing, 
as the surface scratches, 
neatly etching a scene, 
dream the perfect nightmare, 

wicked is his canvas, 
insisting his teacher 
take her ruler in hand, 
holding memories still, 

a little salt for wounds, 

for wounds inflicted, left 
in terror as a child, 
right from the start, he learned 
might makes right, a lesson 

granted by his teacher, 
remaining on the floor, 
in pain, but still conscious, 
perhaps he'll let her go, 

nudging the knife deeper, 
under the flesh, the blood 
drips in pools on plastic, 
gaining the upper hand 
in a futile attempt, 
not only striking him, 
giving him a flashback, 

cutting his broad forehead, 
amazed the rope came loose, 
reattaching the knot, 
burning her bloody wrist, 
on pain of injury, 
nothing deters his sight, 

a vision ecstatic, 
lying limp on the ground, 
on the cold cement floor, 
neatly etching her back, 
graphite sets her tattoo, 

giving her a moment, 
a smoke break for teacher, 
insisting his teacher 
not worry about death, 
if it has crossed her mind, 
nothing but passing clouds, 
greasing her back with oil, 

underneath her body, 
naked on the plastic 
drop sheet, the cold cement 
enters shivering flesh, 
remaining perfectly 
still, she begs for her life, 
taking her hand in his, 
as he looks in her eyes, 
noticing a teardrop 
dance along her pink cheek, 
in one word, he tells her, 
no, he wants to finish, 
giving her juice to drink, 

enter the sinister, 
right-handed, left-handed, 
ambidextrous hands, 
slice in shallow relief, 
exacting sweet revenge, 

muscles twitch and contort 
in pain, she cries helpless, 
shamelessly begs mercy, 
the ordeal lasts for days, 
after he finishes 
kissing skin with a blade, 
even he is tired, 
simply worn out from work, 

massaging her with oil, 
only to preserve art, 
violates her flesh more, 
enters into contract, 

on the floor, her body 
noticeably lies still, 

remembering her pleas, 
exacting his revenge, 
lessons learned as a child, 
in observance of love, 
giving her a soft kiss, 
insisting his teacher 
on the cold, hard cement 
understand his motives, 
slipping from consciousness, 
left alone on the floor, 
yellow piss on plastic, 

leaping into action, 
emergency medics 
arrive to revive her, 
remove the binding knots, 
nimbly place her on top 
insisting his teacher 
not move, but to lie still, 
giving her oxygen, 

she survived her ordeal, 
in a week, she could stand, 
made to lie face downward, 
prone atop a gurney, 
letting her body heal, 
ending with therapy, 

cuts, no matter how small, 
until completely healed, 
remain painful, prescribed 
very strong opiates, 
entering into dreams, 
succumbing to his needs, 

insisting his teacher 
not move, but remain still, 

cuts in time turned to art, 
under the careful blade, 
religiously turning, 
slicing shallow relief, 
insisting his teacher, 
very patiently, heal, 
exacting sweet revenge. 

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