You’re the demon morality my mother always warned me against

She gripped my tender arm whilst I tried to sneak penny laces from low shop shelves

Glaring at me with her coal black eyes burning

“Wait till I get you home” she mouthed through tight lips and clenched teeth

I, sinful with beetroot cheeks, faced the rude awakening of my deeds

Seeking to delay the long walk home to inevitable punishment

Perhaps it will be the slipper, or maybe no dinner

Grounded to my bedroom

Or could it be worse… the white belt

She taught me shame, she taught me dignity

She taught me uprightness and honesty

And now look how I betray her since many long moons

How I stand in chains inhaling for the final sigh

To lie on my back and imagine the unimaginable.