No.44
.
You choose that dress
Without any care for consequence.
You wear that scent
Unarmoured, so complacent.
You’ve perfected that smile
So consciously self-beguiled.
And strike your pose,
As if you know how this goes.
.
I wear this skin,
Ill-fitted and shapeshifting,
Draw you near
Pour my poison in your ear.
My hands, so crooked in these gloves,
Warmer than a heart dead to love.
Make no mistake:
Everything you have shall I take.
.
No.44
Erik Kaisson, 2017