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This
Pretty Lair
Amaretto
eyes strung along
by ivory, all drawn to the lone head deity.
Did you ever
have a sweetheart
to bury?
To find you, we crept past mothers
and braved ancient cables.
Passed broken boards and saw dust,
the small dancers
stole your view.
The Fox echoing Tchaikovsky,
but not a soul to be seen
as we trespassed through
this pretty lair.
~Spring
2005~
The
Nerve
Quicker than a
sure shot,
she decides to
jump
right in.
Gold digger with a heart
of shark teeth,
please spare me the details
of her
gory past.
All I see is sparkling fingers,
summer blonde
and fancy dress.
Like an emperor
in a fire cloak,
she'll make your knees wish
they were spared
the nerve.
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