The monkey jar

The monkey jar comes from an old Indian story, the villagers place fruit

in the bottom of large jars to catch the monkeys .  The monkeys get

their hands stuck in the jars because they are holding the fruit  and

can only escape , if they let go of it .

 Truth has many facescolour blends to see- through white ,paradox lies  in muddied puddleof who did what , who won the fight . Your presence is a mirrorreflecting carelessly the me you see& I watch the canvas that you painteach fine flecked line , each clichéd commaeach hackneyed band of femininity. I choose the day &  truth I wearsoft dresses ripe for harvestbut something other calls my namea distant cloudburst , sun through rain ,a sweetened wine I long to drink not the salted kind you’ve offered meyour tight ribbed stab at honesty& I let my monkey stumble freeto find the way ,where truth will wear my own face .