that you try to hide from view
by plastering that wide Cheshire smile –
on that narrow bristle face. If it was
any thicker it would crack
down the middle. You’d look like
snapped bows of a broken
fiddle. And you wouldn’t be able
to play anymore to the novice girl’s
next door.

I know the side of you
that you keep very still,
as a cat crouched down while it
ogles its unsuspecting prey. It
doesn’t make a sound until it pounces
on the lift-off. Of course, whatever
its going after doesn’t realize what happened
until it’s too late. You always knew
how to bait. You had them under
your spell, with those hypnotic eyes and
paralyzing lies. You had me too. No more
do I play the fool.