Copper and Silk.

A poem about a man I hate.

Copper and Silk.

The connection ceases to exist
Wires strain to meet
Never finding the point of ignition.
Carefully I approach
Guarded and alert at every point along this path.
Your stones do not cause me to stumble
Your branches do not tear at my skin.
This suit I wear
Made of copper and silk
Is not meant for you.
Your touch turns this fabric to ash
This metal to powder.
Keep your distance
for I know your dishonest ways.
Your burning touch will not sear this soul.
This soul is not meant for you.