Do you fear me yet, sweet one?
I manifest my horror as tender touches
and soothing pet names. They say something
about killing them with kindness,
but love ends lives so much more smoothly.
Each scratch of a fingernail adds to your unease.
Every "darling" called from the backroom
causes you to cringe. But you won't say a word,
will you? Because this is a fate you chose.
You like my cold arms wrapped--
so boa constrictor tight--
around you that there is no room
for another set. Each time you leave
you are tortured by the thought of me,
laid out in the darkness awaiting your return.
Like an unforgiving dog. But it is you
who cries when we are apart, soothed
only by my talons, which hold you tightly,
but are careful not to cut too deep.