Disgrace

a poem

Matt Seymour / Unsplash

She panders
to those fleshy zones
where sinews cleave
to loyal bones,
each a pressured
principality,
where the burden of duty
sleepwalks along
blue-veined corridors.
He is keen to air
his personal woes
to his ad-hoc retinue,
while she prepares
those princely plates of meat,
kneading the mottled
pink and white
and despite the intimacy
afforded by every tweak,
she remains invisible
to history.