I sat and watched them,
saw the difference in colour of those
whose shadows moved around me.
They touched my skin and pierced my inner flesh,
hot and sweaty palms for me to read forever on my skin.

One by one they turned and then turned away,
pushed my hand, stopped their breath
from bruising my hair.
Each head was bent as I walked,
a back to face my meanings.

I was their touch, their stare,
the lingered thought and bottled scent.
The dreams they had were of me,
and their wake was to my side.
What hot words were split to catch them all?
Whose lips unsealed themselves to lisp against me?
I do not know the words, but felt the covenant begin.

They took my hands, my legs,
abound my stride.
Hot tongues licked out my eyes
and pushed all sight pastward.
A soldered scale was all they left to hold my hand,
a dirty rag left to touch my face and fate.

So now I am thought and reverie,
muted colours that sting my mind to silence.
Now I am temperance and the great contemplate.
- how I wish to be just
and be the woman I just was.

This blindfold still smells of their judgement, their sin,
and its stench binds my lips more than my eyes.
I talk through weights, one hand clasped,
and say nothing of the tears that tip the scale.

Must I be blind to see fairness?
Or did they see fairness that made them blind?

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