The Collusion of Wile
a corpulent sleight of hand
untethered and
within its own will
kindling a masquerade
Your intent is not to harm me
a deliberate act
of wicked dexterity
fashioned to channel
bile from moonbeams
Your intent is not to harm me
a psalm
pretty and full of
veiled decor
scented, malevolent
Your need is to devour
the warmth of summer
boiling a stain upward
into hollow cheeks
masking indifference
An excuse is as good as a reason
lies in regalia
lying cherry blossoms
to roses blood rich
in carnal appetite
Your intent was not to harm me
hunger throws a pearl
from a nylon wire
whistles, ensnares
and devours.
You never had control.
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