Creeping over her, warm maroon tints
Ooze absolute life down her neck
Shading her limbs as, sure enough, she falls
One hundred percent for the man she’ll
Never have.
And he, noble, even righteous to a tee
Falls, to—Like Adam, but without the fruit
or an Eve, curious but content to wander
a few more years until finally, progress
must be made and what could one bite
hurt anyway?
So he blushes, too. But yawns because
He does that when he’s nervous
And she looks away, afraid to catch his eye
Tormented yet forever silent
Because love must be controlled for
The sake of heaven.
“I’m not dead yet” he screams within
Arguing for the Fates to finally free him
And as she watches, he moves unaware; life
Forces his wicked head into her
Thinking, charging lunacy for
Ever dreaming.
Walk down the maze of halls
With laughing children round
And happy families need them when
The serpent comes to town.
So,
she turned him
down.
Word Play 