The fires in her eyes tonight
Call forth the thought that they invite,
Though I remember, long ago
My absence seemed more apropos.
The smile that lingers on her lips
Says more than many verbal slips -
The time when it was somewhat grim
Is in the past and rather dim.
She flayed me once, no, more than twice
She flayed me both with flames and ice
And once again, ironically,
She primes me for catastrophe.
Those curious, nearby, just watch
Her try to cut a deeper notch.
But even they don't seem to know
The depths to which she'd really go.
Upon my face a smile appears
Which hides my thoughts and paints my sneers,
For now I too have learned the rules
From her - she was the best of schools.
Because I'm acting somewhat cool,
Thus pouring on her fires, fuel,
She burns and yearns and wants me more
Than when I was her cuspidor.
She doesn't know I'm not the same,
And plans to play her practiced game.
But when her teardrops start to swell,
Will she be proud she taught me well?
The others leave, I stay behind
(They all know what she has in mind)
And take her in my arms once more
Then slip her past the bedroom door.
She whispers secrets in my ear,
As I once did (she didn't hear):
I listen with a mirthless smile
While thinking of a desert isle.
The night is passed, her trusting grows,
I part before the morning glows.
Aroused, she'll seek a waking thrill
But find instead a dollar bill...
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Comments about this poem (Bitterness by Terry O'Leary )
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