Unrepentant
by Helen Barter
Ugly self-pity gapes
as wide as the seagull's unrepentant beak.
Curtains billow and lift.
Comfort, abandoned
along with my self-respect.
Cold, damp air on my skin,
lifts the tiny hairs across the back of my neck
and I close my eyes.
Cold, dry tears on my face
harden in spite of myself.
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