"Marie"

[Clutter Buck]

...Marie’s eyes of amethyst lit up the room,
as our lithe protagonist served visitors food.
Her Clinique perfume desperately clung to the fabric
of each stitch her intrusive bosom was wrapped in.
She took her a napkin and folded the fixtures back
in the function room happening for local Sophisticrats.
Her role was to whisk their platters away, courtesy politely,
and oversee simple matters like keeping surfaces tidy.
The work wasn’t highly paid & meant both her hands were sore
but in turn it provided chance to hone the mask she wore.
As she moped the chateaus halls whilst cleaning incessantly,
her palms going back and forth with ever-increasing intensity,
Marie had a tendency to cleanse everything in her path
as if being hygienic would remedy the blemishes of her past.
So she’d never sit on her hands, considered cleanliness godly,
and swept every inch to help banish the cobwebs in her closet.
Her obsession with polishing grew from denial,
to forget the astonishment of losing her child.
She refused reconcilement, discarded her friends,
choosing to hide it by starting again.
As it grew harder to bear than she’d possibly imagine
she garnered her wares up laconically and vanished.
But the loss of what she’d carried was bound to her memory
it was horrid but she managed to find work out of necessity.
The house of the Beckerstein’s was a family home,
shrouded in evergreen and granting her hope.
Where Marie could look after the both of their children,
bath them and cloth them while holding the siblings.
It gave her total fulfilment in the role of maid she winged,
or so her resilience suggested on the face of things.
Marie became unhinged, growing more lecherous daily,
thinking she could replace the infant she lost with the Beckerstein baby.
The night of the special engagement as those amethyst eyes gleamed,
and while other guests celebrated, she ran up to find... ME!
And so with my cheek pressed to her ear,
We’d creep through the night,
as Marie Celeste disappeared as mysteriously as she had arrived...