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The Intruder Dec. 03, 2003 ] 8:08 PM She oozes into the room, an insinuating monstrosity Trailing the effluent of her limitations An inveterbrate suddenly possessing craven boldness, Bolstered with false backbone (skeleton keys). She eyes the room in slick, serpentine self-satisfaction, A self-righteous cataloguing That perforates the density of private space And taints the sanctity of sanctuary. The ringing tones of false charity and servile politeness Its brightness sharper than her scrutiny, Overwhelms reason, fudged already by drowsiness. Vaguely recognised through dreamy bashfulness, Those encroaching ways, that unctuous crassness; The lone occupant exposed beneath that impolite gaze, Struggles out of the confines of bedclothes and opiate haze, Mouths polite pleasantries and placentious placations. Which are mistakenly taken for submission, So she now stalks in, A queenly predator wrapped in a human membrane Composed of three parts envy, one part frustration. Covetously fingering what she wishes to claim, Relishing the feel of her supposed conquests, Before she is contented to leave, In a flurry of self-importance and satisfaction. Wakefulness brings damning anger, The chorion of good manners will be sloughed off, To be subjected to this indignation, After so rude an awakening, The morning brightness stained by so vulgar a presence. Grrrr. I hate encroaching people fingering both my private life and my possessions like so much yardage. That statement is in itself ironic, considering that this is a public space I am exhibiting my private life in. Although at least in here, I get to choose what I wish to expose to the world. wax ] wane