Unkind Kindness

You are unkind his eyes said,

Balefully through a veneer of feigned niceties,

For how can I refuse but a chunk of what he could take?

It was hardly an extremity that he demanded not scared,

But something in his face cowered with scaly ease,

As if he had seen it all both real and fake,

I had given before,

Right before those same hungry orbs,

Given a nature that less subtle would be forced,

To another that had not even thought of more,

Flesh and bone perceptions to absorb,

And each to their own of course,

But to say no when you can,

Is quite a thing to boldly fathom,

Something that scuttled through his irises,

Deeper than the dark puddle of his upturned hand,

Spoke of this, like these thoughts as I have them,

The lead in the veins as the heart silences,

Given to complexity I give when I can,

Oblivious of what I have,

Shrouded by a fitting veil with tiny holes,

Through which I spy nothing I have not stained,

Nothing I ever felt I truly had,

Nothing ever to be blamed…

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