Games Poem by Briony Brosnan

For Mark Owen, the only cat for this mouse.


The mouse stood smirking at the cat.
It pulled on her hair, imagine that.
It jolted her forward like a train.
It sent her into the nightmare again.

Bad touches.
He sure could touch.

Long kisses slink from her mouth to her throat.
He bites like a cobra and she must take note.
Captures and tease, he flirts and he toys.
Big cats are brave tigers but still little boys.

Bad touches.
It’s all too much.

Shiver, cry, she starts to shake.
From the nightmare she prays to wake.
Please don’t babe. She whispers.
Get off me. She screams.

Goodbye to the horror of horrible dreams.

Bad touches.
She’s had enough.

When he kissed, she relaxed.
When he touched, she touched back.
When he bit, she just smirked.
It was strange but it worked.

Bad touches.
No more love.

Shudder, swear, he starts to shake.
Confusion brings a stomach ache.
Scream for me. He whispers.
Cry for me. He screams.

The mouse has escaped from the horrible dreams.

He touches.
She rises above.