Stolen Words – Annette Kalandros

The tinge of sadness in your words

Told me you had stolen these words

From another to whom you had

Given them then turned and gifted them

To me, and I—I pretended you had

Freshly written such lovely words for me,

Letting the ink of your stolen words

Blanket me, comfort me with something

I needed to feel— if only for a time—

The street huckster wraps her wares

In three day old newspapers to cushion

Them from breakage

And once home, I peeled the molding

Paper off my skin to find it stained

With the cheap ink of your stolen words

Soap, hot water, and good scrubbing

Wore all the stains away.

My skin refreshed and oiled,

I sigh heavily with pity now

For you must not feel

Anything much that is real

Who must constantly steal

And steal away again your now

Cheapened words to give to one

And then another and another.

Annette Kalandros, a retired teacher, residing in Houston, TX with two French Bulldogs, writes to make sense of things—life, the world, the inner workings of her own mind and soul. In addition, she had been active in the LGBTQ community since was four years old and marched her Ken doll with all his little Ken accouterments to the big metal trash can in the yard. Her two Barbie dolls lived happily ever after. Her work has been included in the anthology, As The World Burns.

You can read more of her write at Hearing The Mermaids Sing