Friday, March 27, 2009

Poetry: Siren

You wear your tragedy
like a silken black dress…
Ebony attractiveness of sorrow and need
almost seems to cling to your curves --
calling out your tender parts.

You draw the men like bees to sugar.
Each one so sure he is the one to help,
the one to rescue you.
Helpless little you.
Weak and saddened little you.

And you whisper
how you don’t know what you’d do without him,
how you need him.

Lies so succulent and tempting
They are devoured greedily.
Each man feeling singularly important.
Each victim blind and deaf to the ghosts of others in your bed.

But I know you siren.
And I’ll be damned and dead
before I allow your song to entrance my love.
I saw the look in your eyes, the greed…

You’ll not feed upon his kindness while I breathe.
I see through
your painted picture of beauty and affliction
to the ugly, manipulative nature of the beast.
If you don’t want your dirty little secrets revealed
Turn and walk away from him.
Dismiss him from your thoughts.
Don’t lay your hungry eyes upon his soul again.

In case you question how far I'd go for him.
To the ends of earth and time my dear.
And if you care to try me --
Make a move.
I'll tear you apart

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