A Mouse With a Cloak
Small feet, small hands,
so meek his timid shy tongue could
barely speak but mumbles-
soft words carried away by the
slightest wisp of breeze.
Soft brown hair covering a lecher head
with thoughts buried deep,
strange ideas from a cloaked little mouse.
"Come, let's dine on aged cheese and the finest wine."
Well, why not? I longed for a friend, but the
boyish grin was hiding pointed teeth.
The bashful charm masked
dragon fire, and creatures
crawling on floors of oceans deep.
Long smooth arms were waiting
to twine like a snake coiled in a
wet patch of grass.
Sitting at the white-linen table
the candle flickered in the dark
where goblets held tainted red secrets.
Goose flesh gives a sign (as it is not cold)
and stark-naked lies awaken from
their dank den. Through the veil...
through the cloak...black feckless eyes
peered in an odd way and I knew then-
darkness has no friends.
Copyright © Dana Young | Year Posted 2016
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