YOUR MAN.

A WOMAN AND HER DECEITFUL MAN.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your man stinks
Of utter
Betrayal,

 

Even his
Eyes betray
Secrets by

 

Looking far
Away. His
Fine words come

 

Across so
Buttery
And smooth and

 

His hot lips
And two bit
Promises

 

Are all laid
Out like some
Fisherman’s

 

Stall, but you
Ain’t buying,
You know the

 

Game, his game,
Know that some
Where, someplace

 

Some dame’s known
Him better,
Better in

 

Bed, deeply
Occupies
His head, his

 

Thoughts, his wild
Passions. Your

Man breathes dark

 

Deceit, lets
Out a scent
Of some dame’s

 

Perfume, her
Kisses sit
Warm unseen

 

Upon his
Skin, her pink
Fingerprints

 

Sour the
Flesh that you
Once touched, once

 

Loved. Your man
Chills you now,
Leaves you cold

 

And bitter
And without
Pity or

 

Care. But deep
Inside you
Know you lie,

 

Know for two
Coins, you’d let
Him back, let

 

Him into
Your arms, lay
Between your

 

Thighs, into
Your heart, if
Only he

 

Hadn’t ripped
It wide, torn
It apart.

Reviews

[just rose.]

Quite constructively intended, I almost wonder if the penultimate lines of this don't need to be there. I stop at her thighs and I absolutely get it. The short lines and quick stanza breaks function almost as a hyperventilating feeling, of the swamp of feelings betraying the rock of resolve. Well done and you get inside the voice brilliantly.

[deeps]

My Goodness this one tugs at the heart quite profoundly.
I can see the imagery protrayed in and outward.
This is quite the write, sad but well written.

[Journey]

I can almost see him in his hat, suit and stinking cigar. You painted such a vile picture of this smooth talker. Yes, he probably spits much game with the ladies.