in a poem at the table

a masterpiece of lies in love

his composition celebrates your downfall

/

these are my traitors hands

two silver, hooked offenders

dipping into the well of you

/

this is my gentle sin

his promise, unfulfilled

the plan: my pirate's map, his cruel hunt

X

your puppet smile is straining

X

his words, a loaded gun

X

your flower heart is wilting

X

my wicked work is done.