It was never something new, something

that came out of the blue,

I was always an irrelevance to you;

I saw it in your eyes and felt it

strangle me when you would

go out of your way to hold

a smile for me despite knowing

full well you truly despised me.

 

It was in your handshake,

the “What’s your name again”,

you found such a laugh on that cold

winter’s night in church

and the silent accusations looking down

from self-imposed high and mighty position

of the head of the new and enlightened

as you chose to believe

I had neglected you, that I had moved

and distanced myself from your

coven; not asking why I chose to spend the night

in a different arena or not bothering

with anything but the imperfect stare

of the wounded just

when I whispered that a seminar

was calling.

 

Drink your wine and toast

your name loudly with great cheer,

and whilst I see no forgiveness,

I forgive you

for your not some holy spirit,

just a man with serpent’s tongue.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016