Memory

A fruit knife slices through the
dawn breakfast
as the colony’s ignorant Colonel
violates the little girl’s innocence,
fondling his baton,
drinking the steaming tea

Damask damsels
knowing nothing
of true love and devotion
to the mother.
She embraces the chocolate doll,
hugging it tightly.

Bengali tigers are spread as butter
on the Empire’s toast.
Licking his lips and sucking his yellow teeth,
the Colonel’s hands wander.
His apple pie with too many cloves,
is bitter to the taste

No redemption
from this ugly fate.
God is only real for the believers
when the sun sets on this crime.
In her own virgin time
she repossesses her life almost too late.

Years have brought the children
to wits end
and sanity’s borders.
Kipling kills

the urge in her to survive,
although she seems to know,
the difference between
innocence and guilty denial

Oppression clouds consciousness.
The smouldering destruction
from a seemingly dark core
bursts into flames.

With known habits and other thoughts
she continues,
and now,
time makes the distant memory
fade.

Time makes the distant memory
fade