Like the roof had descended,
Chamber so humid
Squeezing my fatigued being
Onto the floors of that cul-de-sac
Breathing bitterness, resent, loathe… another task
But the judge
Ready to consign
Catharses of my mind and heart
To comfort, security, satisfaction, justice!
Freedom from doubt,
Desire for future good.

When she hit the gavel
Boom!
Like brass on oak!
So hard, with her strength, attitude, feelings…
It let loose!
From its handle, rolling down
Into his dock at his feet
It could be the last bang on his
And his detested tribe!

But it was his stare
That came sharp, down my breast,
Descending to my navel
Beneath my bolero,
Protuberant cask,
Holding my untamed jewel,
In four moons
Down to invisible camel toe
His gaze rested,
Fertilised by lust, malevolence…
His sleek smile contorting his face
Displaying devilish relics
Beckoning nostalgic deja vu
His hands, within the cage of manacles
Twitching, horny,
Longing for another illicit grab,
Oblivious of his sentence
Of the agape atmosphere
Of the judges iron stare
Her roaring sentence filled the chamber
Guiding and directions to drought
And damnation,
And doom…
Lifetime lesson.

I walk out of that consignment
Into the sunny bright streets
Caressing my caged wild fruit
Bitter-sweet memory
With an assurance and reassurance
That the litter thrown in the bin
That a new day has come,
Hope then faith…
Always love.

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