Sleight of hand

She’s flighty, and she still believes in
fairies and justice, and that  
the world is a good place,
and that she might belong in it
one day . . .

Besides, all that white? So 2009.

I, on the other hand, drip the word
Fuck
with each click of a black high-heel in your mind

I’m the one who’ll fuck your mind,
fuck your body
fuck your will
tear you apart just to see how you tick
and whisper sick nothings
while I slide down your
cock like it’s a carnival ride

I’m the analytical bitch, mixing
sex like a cake mix,
then throwing it in the oven
just to see how
hot
it gets,
before it burns

And I’m the wanton warrior,
willing to sacrifice our bodies
in a knock-down drag out
free-for-all
with you slamming me to the wall
me slamming you to the ground
and you slamming so deep into me
I can’t do anything but scream your name
like a curse
and a prayer

There’s nothing of interest beyond me.

Nothing but she, who
can’t really do anything
but sit on your lap,
basking in the glow of your beauty,
and safe with your arms around her
trust you with everything that never was,
while your fingerprints stain
the curve of her waist

She’s not so very interesting.