penelope
Penelope's name is innocent;
All cinammon and honeyed curves
But her sweet tongue clothes a weapon.
She is often disciplined
For deuling before English,
Dreaming when they read,
Listening
Lending words of comfort
During Math.
Chewing gum.
She sits so slight
And writes so neatly
In the handwriting that marks the popular kids,
Perfectly formed letters
Shaping words that mean piss all.
Piss call.
Penelope is away with the fairies
While she wetly slicks on lip liner
And wonders where she'll be tonight.
Her friends see less and less
Though the boys standing at urinals,
Desperate not to look,
Say they see more and more
But she does not dance with them.
And somewhere in a room is Penelope's watch.
It's hands have stopped in the despair
Of passing time in this one moment.
She never takes her earrings out
In these new rooms
Each one defined by what's left in the minibar
A lonesome pair of satin shoes behind a bed
And yet through all this loss,
This sacrafice,
Potential shame
Penelope insists on leaving her clothes on stranger's chairs.