It was a pleasure to of made your acquaintance

I don't see you much anymore,
it was a pleasure to of made your acquaintance.
maybe our chance encounter was fictional,
though our exchange of words was sincere.

you moved me as maracas,castanets.
no, not like someone pushes their dresser to the other side of the room; more as the feeling when you see ghost gliding, or get hit with a burst of yellow sunshine and struck like a match, caught off guard by oncoming traffic turmoil.what a beautiful expensive lawsuit you would of been.

i was startled by the stirring night yet intrigued as the curious cat to ink spilled from a fountain pen;paws marking up the house.
creeping as euthanasia .tasting transparent, waters i could of died from, your stone thatched roof well could quench a thousand verse, fetched by pulley and wooden bucket beckoning.it could of easily been poisoned,still i drank your chemical formula concoction.

talking in quatrain, when you spoke i heard the fall of rain, smelled condensation, and saw the most beautiful creature i'd never touch.maybe with a handshakes harm or a friendly hug but not how i wanted; yet bit by the lightning bug.

am i a book you brought to life, back from death;cover to copyright ? at what point did you plan on burning me,the pages that plunder peculiar minds? i remember it was me that caught fire myself,crackling over open flame,warming you from the heat will suffice.

i was in fashion off the runway at the moment so you wore me with vigor and glee.racy red skirt or a white cut blouse , oh for Pete's sake i would of justified being your bed side mouse.

bitten by your photograph and barking up the wrong tree.dangerous as a ever growing radioactive dandelion wielding knives,demonic smiles,flashing at the picture shows.you would of looked good in black and white silent pictures before the talkies rolled on through.

an explosion of steam.
a nervous swallow.
slasher horror movie screaming victim #1, killed just after the passionate steamy sex scene.
Fangoria would have fought for you.
the dark woods and leaves cover in the shaded murder scene as the screen pans out wide past the dense tree tops; and the movie ends with all of the title characters dead and the killer still on the loose.

a hitchhikers is picked up by a passing motorist and as they drive away you see a break in the backpack clearly showing the killers weapon and he smiles.

fade to black.

cue The RAMONES - Chain Saw

I don't see you much anymore,
it was a pleasure to of made your acquaintance.
maybe our chance encounter was fictional,
though our exchange of words was sincere.