Meeting Augustus

I once carried a storyteller's psalm book,
Nestled tightly beneath my left arm in it's pit.

Sitting to sing only for the lovely,
Where beauty tickled rose petals.

Nameless maidens sat at my feet.
As I serenaded their hearts.

Tugging on emotions,
I was the pied piper of paper backed romance.

I played mandolin heartstrings,
With all intentions of breaking them.

Manipulation was an art.
Coffee, flowers, undivided attention.

Dates that ended in flipped skirts
And phone sitting.

"I promise to call in the morning."
Never holding up my end of the bargain.

With every woman I fell,

Further from the ranks of chivalry.

I've objectified women my whole life,

To keep from getting hurt.

Collateral damage was common.
It wasn't my job to love them forever.

Absent only to the girls I courted the night before,
Bars and pubs I gladly attended.

My buddies and I swapped stories like trading cards.
Sharing more then required.

"She was something else,"
Almost as if I'd felt sorry for dumping her.

None of us remained stary-eyed for long,
one night was enough to drink ourselves full.

Later to share the secrets we bore,
Spread on the table like the women we stole them from.

By the end of the night we walked lazily,
drunk with hubris and ale.

Reviews

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

I have known men such as this.............

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

This man was wolf...his primal side seemed to have completely taken over.
The dynamics of his character made it a must read.