by A.E. Rivenbark |
Categories:
love hurts, lust,
She was warm to the touch
Cold to the bone
A sheepskin clutch
With a heart of stone
Her gentle webbed hands pulling, she drowns him
And he’s seeking solace as she comes up for air
A Benedict Arnold over easy, she confounds him
He comes with a start and she with a stare
Deciphering what truth, if any human remains
She’ll speak dolphin, he’ll just wail
White squid ink on her nightie stains
Her love scribbled on a platypus bill of sale