The Falconer

sitting on the floor at barnes & noble
wearing black cashmere sweater, thigh hi
brown leather boots...the same leather and
color as his dicipline "helper"

she looks up and quickly averts her eyes
scribbles in a slim notebook
biting her lips
...

slowly he primes her
sharpens his pen
his eyes eat her desire
her bowed head, flushed throat

he smiles inside:  
introspective poets are
prime submissives

3 months later:

thea is at the proper weight
her lips plump, trained to remain parted
hair is longer
shiny and straight
she sings much better than
he could have dreamed

he thinks he will order
one more tattoo
her skin gleams from
following his obsessive diet

Z.  opens the cage and releases his bird
from the pillow, carries her to his study
kissing her lips
makes her whisper his name
as he has taught thea

in the study he places thea on the floor
and stands above her
From somewhere inside the room
Chopin plays the piano to maniacal heights

her hair is fanned out on the hardwood
floor, he crushes roses the length of
her body...pours oil here and there

she trembles

in anticipation

*****

an ode to a short story my cousin and I read in middle school.