Widowed

Her only talent is To steal the dance And so the beat begins. Round and round She turns to your tune Loving the heady spin. Hear her words Pour forward from her Intentions spilled too thin. Her clutch for long straws A quickening of heart A desire burns to win. A long year unites Illusions of love Pure mimicry is her sin. Black magic fingers Red lips share burnt breath Whispers scorch his bare skin. She's a snare! A trap! A pull from within. It's so close To true love I pause At the twin. But the mirror reflects A scorpion's Sting Like a black widow spider The wrong Queen Slays her King You should have made me The song that you sing..... I truly loved you