Hannah In Her Dirt
she hid her love underneath
her working woman’s fingernails,
affection in layered grime,
her soot-covered face
upturned only toward him
red-roughed hands
to match her blush,
tattered aprons
and tongue glued
to his filthy boots
she fawned to remain lowly,
dodging kisses from
fellow servant boys,
saving her velvety lips
for her sweetheart only
her man of letters
was her best kept secret,
the promise of her master’s caress
caused her to scrub and scour
for hours to truly feel complete
an affair so pure
it soiled society’s standards,
a longing so deep
no bathwater could remove it,
these two knew discretion
as well as dusty corners
so misunderstood, yet
her smile was that
of a fine lady’s glow;
at his feet
was her favorite post,
the pats to her matted hair,
the flirting, coy glances
in the public square
their connection so sacred,
a union so scandalous
that no one could tell,
her likeness in his mindset,
separation like hell
the wrist-strap she wore
was the binding sign
of these two destined souls,
in love and in dirt,
forever entwined
Photo from the book “Love & Dirt: The Marriage of Arthur Munby & Hannah Cullwick” by Diane Atkinson, which inspired this poem.
Beautiful and touching!
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Thanks, Dominic
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My pleasure Jennifer!
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Great writing, Jen. Reciprocation is key here. Blessings. Xo
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Thank you, Selma!
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Xoxo
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This is great Jennifer!
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Thank you!
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