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Ten Sins Of Thee

Author: Serena Kim

Ten: the constellations circle not โ€˜round 
the Pole of North, but the axis of thy spine,
Nine: thine ears droop down like flaps of a hound 
A laden stench of flaxen wax, not mine.
Eight: thy musty eyes tell not crates from plates. 
Seven: not even view the sun with mirth, 
only Six ticks of the clock, thou berate
Five: thy toes plant garlic cloves into the earth
with pungent fumes, pleasantry long bereft. 
Four: thy hoarse voice repels all โ€˜ffection, hence.  
Three: thy tongue still yearns for Motherโ€™s breasts. 
Two years of falsities etched in permanence 
โ€” One, a banner I cannot wrench away 
    at my heartโ€™s crest thou had aโ€™placed and played.

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