She is insidiously beautiful;
She casts long shadows of contrasting shade and light
a flashing beacon of dark and bright,
warning, warning. But oh that smile, and those legs!
She enters on a summer breeze, wafting in on peace and love
and the musk of sex, gathering allies as she comes,
smiling and frowning, already splitting the old alliance.
Pretending obedience but offering only war and defiance.
She draws you in, with her stories and her spin
Bit by bit by bit the stories collapse the façade begins to unravel
To many jobs, to many old friends,
girlfriends, boyfriends, to much travel, running away.
The first flash of real evil comes
long after the first requests and first demands
She needs, she needs she needs, special soap for sensitive skin
Special foods because she is too thin,
cocaine to make her sin. And oh, how she sins!
She thanks you for your gifts, smiles and tucks them away for another day
And by tomorrow, she needs, she needs, she needs, again and again and again.
She needs new shoes, she needs new jeans, good labels only please
and new men. In new ways. Always.
The first scream, not of joy or lust, pain or frustration or anguish,
but domineering, evil and hate filled.
And then you think about the first days, the smiles, the tears, the giveaways. You fool, you fool.
Evil now lives in your house with a cold heart and a pretty face and you are its tool. You fool, you fool.
You are a slave to her smile, and besides, you have no others, all frinds gone, long, long gone.
Did they leave or did you tell them to go? Fuck! you don’t know, or care, all gone, long, long, gone
And you have only her, smile now gone, the musk of sex gone.
Its all fucked up, wrong, wrong, wrong
She walks along the hallways casting light and shade, black and white, she’s writing tags
Like a tiger, or a dancer moving through a doorway, light and shade, slats of hate and rage, packed bags
It’s ok, she is leaving, better off without her, let her go,
No, no, no. And you are lost between light and shade.
© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com