She walks past
I catch myself staring
Creepy puppy dog stare
I'll be damned if I can help myself
She pretends not to notice
Her waist sways her hips
Looks away
Flees
Later
A corridor, a staircase, a desk -
Fortune likes to play games
Tension like dusk descends
Desire is concealed in niceties
But the inferno that rages within
Is an urge to seize her shoulders
Shake her to the brink of reality
And from her lofty cliffs of pride,
Sprayed by her stormy depths of confusion,
Expose her to my icy blast of Hatred,
Which she, rightly identifying as Desire,
wrongly characterizes as
Affection.
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