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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Wanna Play?

Toril "Wanna Play"
You beckon
I come
Yes, I know better
and still, I come
You are a thief
a deceiver
You will always hurt me
and still, I come
When you look at me
with those pleading eyes
and that beguiling smile
I can't resist
Time and time again
I come
Trusting your words
more than my own knowledge
Such foolishness!
Still, I come
By the time I see
the glint in your eyes
it is too late
Your alabaster teeth flash and
encircle my neck
like a string of pearls.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations with Margaret, Art With Toril

7 comments:

Outlawyer said...

Oh dear! That is a very deadly string of pearls-- this feels very metaphoric--very clever. Thanks Lola. K. Manicddaily

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Such a perfect ending to a clever metaphoric write.
How easily we are enticed...
Anna :o]

Marcoantonio Arellano said...

wonderful, enticing and seductive penning till the end

gracias mi amiga

Fireblossom said...

Suckerrrrr! Love the closing.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Somehow I don't think this is about a 'real' fox...

;-)

Kerry O'Connor said...

Hi LM, I sent you an email regarding NaPoWriMo. Just letting you know so it doesn't get lost in spam mail.

Margaret said...

What the metaphor... and I wonder - did "he" give you those pearls. Sorry it took so long to visit and comment. Thanks for participating in this challenge.