Stolen poetry

Stolen poetry

Like hotel bar soap-

Used to get me clean when I need to feel pretty-

Not because it’s good soap, 

But because it isn’t mine. 

Because I took it-

Not because it was I who took it, but because it was worth taking, to me.

Like stealing your mother’s perfume and wearing her favorite anything without permission-

Except different-

Because you can only steal from your mother-

Not because she thinks you a thief-

But because you are. 

Not to her-

To her it’s just soap. 

Stolen poetry-

Like hotel bar soap. 

Except it’s not really stealing

When they expect you to take it

And use it, 

Or give it away,

Or store it on the back of your toilet in the guest bathroom-

Reserved especially for them-

All of them. 

Any of them. 

To be taken. 

Like someone else’s words-

Used once to scrub us clean. 

Leaving us smelling new. 

Or lavender. 

Or sterile. 

Stolen poetry. 

Like hotel bar soap. 

Free to take

And yet.

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