Margaret Atwood - The Handmaid's Tale - Chapter 17 lyrics

This is what I do when I'm back in my room:
I take off my clothes and put on my nightgown
I look for the pat of butter
In the toe of my right
Shoe, where I hid it after dinner
The cupboard was too warm
The butter is semi-liquid much of
It has sunk into the
Paper napkin I wrapped it in now I'll have
Butter in my shoe not the first time, because
Whenever there is butter or even margarine
I save some in this way
I can get most of the
Butter off the shoe lining
With a washcloth or somе toilet
Paper from the bathroom, tomorrow
I rub thе butter over my face
Work it into the skin of
My hands there's no longer
Any hand lotion or face cream, not for us
Such things are considered vanities
We are containers
It's only the insides of our bodies
That are important the outside
Can become hard
And wrinkled, for all they care
Like the shell of a nut this
Was a decree of the Wives
This absence of hand lotion
They don't want us to
Look attractive for them
Things are bad enough as it is
The butter is a trick I learned at the Rachel
And Leah Center the Red Center, we called it
Because there was so
Much red my predecessor in this room
My friend with the
Freckles and the good laugh, must
Have done this too
This buttering we all do it
As long as we do this, butter
Our skin to keep it soft
We can believe that we will some
Day get out, that we will be touched again
In
Love or desire we have ceremonies of our own
Private ones
The butter is greasy and it will
Go rancid and I will
Smell like an old cheese but
At least it's organic, as they used to say
To such devices have we descended

Buttered, I lie on my single bed, flat
Like a piece of toast i can't sleep in
The semidark I stare up at the blind plaster
Eye in the middle of the ceiling
Which stares back down at me
Even though it can't see there's no
Breeze, my white curtains are
Like gauze bandages, hanging limp
Glimmering in the aura cast by the
Searchlight that illuminates this
House at night, or is there a moon?
I fold back the sheet, get carefully
Up, on silent bare feet
In my nightgown, go to the
Window, like a child, i
Want to see the moon on
The breast of the new-fallen
Snow the sky is clear but hard to make out
Because of the searchlight but yes
In the obscured sky
A moon does float, newly, a wishing moon
A sliver of ancient rock, a goddess
A wink the moon is a stone and
The sky is full of deadly
Hardware, but oh god, how beautiful anyway
I want Luke here so badly i want to be held
And told my name i want to be valued
In ways that I am not I want
To be more than valuable i
Repeat my former name, remind myself of
What I once could do, how others saw me
I want to steal something

In the hall the night-light's on
The long space glows gently pink I walk, one
Foot set carefully down
Then the other, without creaking
Along the runner, as if
On a forest floor, sneaking, my heart quick
Through the night house i am out
Of place this is entirely illegal
Down past the fisheye on the hall wall
I can see my white
Shape, of tented body, hair down
My back like a mane, my eyes gleaming i like
This i am doing something, on
My own the active, is it a tense?
Tensed what I would like to steal
Is a knife, from the kitchen
But I'm not ready for that
I reach the sitting room
Door's ajar, slip in, leave
The door a little open a squeak of wood
But who's near enough to hear? I stand in the
Room, letting the pupils of my eyes dilate
Like a cat's or owl's old perfume
Cloth dust fill my nostrils
There's a slight mist
Of light, coming through the cracks
Around the closed drapes
From the searchlight outside, where
Two men doubtless patrol, i've seen
Them, from above, from behind
My curtains, dark shapes, cutouts
Now I can see outlines
Gleams: from the mirror
The bases of the lamps, the vases
The sofa looming like a cloud at dusk
What should I take? Something that
Will not be missed in
The wood at midnight, a magic
Flower a withered daffodil, not
One from the dried arrangement the
Daffodils will soon be thrown
Out, they're beginning to smell along
With Serena's stale fumes
The stench of her knitting
I grope, find an end table
Feel there's a clink, i must have knocked
Something i find the daffodils, crisp at
The edges where they've dried
Limp towards the stems, use my fingers
To pinch i will press this
Somewhere under the mattress leave it
There, for the next woman, the
One who comes after me
To find but there's someone in the
Room, behind me i hear the
Step, quiet as mine, the creaking of the
Same floorboard the door closes behind
Me, with a little click, cutting the
Light i freeze: white was a
Mistake i'm snow in moonlight
Even in the dark
Then a whisper: "Don't scream it's all
Right" As if I'd scream, as if
It's all right i turn: a shape
That's all, dull glint of cheekbone
Devoid of color
He steps towards me nick "What
Are you doing in here?"
I don't answer he too is
Illegal, here, with me
He can't give me away nor
I him for the moment we're mirrors he
Puts his hand on my arm
Pulls me against him, his mouth on mine
What else comes
From such denial? Without a word
Both of us shaking, how I'd like to
In Serena's parlor, with the dried
Flowers, on the Chinese carpet, his
Thin body a man entirely unknown
It would be like shouting
It would be like shooting someone
My hand goes down, how about that, I could
Unbutton, and then but, it's too dangerous
He knows it, we push each other away, not
Far too much trust, too much risk
Too much already "Iwas coming to find you
" he says, breathes, almost
Into my ear i want to reach up
Taste his skin
He makes me hungry his fingers
Move, feeling my arm under
The nightgown sleeve
As if his hand won't listen to reason it's
So good, to be touched by someone, to
Be felt so greedily, to feel so greedy luke
You'd know, you'd understand it's you here
In another body bullshit
"Why?" I say is it so bad, for him
That he'd take the risk
Of coming to my room at night?
I think of the hanged men
Hooked on the Wall i can
Hardly stand up i have
To get away, back to the stairs
Before I dissolve entirely his hand's on my
Shoulder now, held still
Heavy, pressing down on me like
Warm lead is this
What I would die for? I'm a coward
I hate the thought of pain "He told me to
" Nick says "He wants to
See you in his office"
"What do you mean?" I say the Commander
It must be see me? What does he mean
By see? Hasn't he had enough of me?
"Tomorrow, " he says
Just audible in the dark parlor
We move away from
Each other, slowly, as if pulled towards
Each other by a force, current
Pulled apart also by hands equally strong
I find the door, turn the
Knob, fingers on cool porcelain
Open it's all I can do