the banshee's castle

Even you cannot stop time. You will grow old.

Though you speak and spray a fne mist of your past loves,
you've left none of them alive to vouch for you

The sharp angles of your mother tongue cut me
as you protest they loved you in return

The old stains will come up through the varnish you know
Precisely because you made the cleaning lady cry
as she scrubbed your drips away