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Bete Noir

I knew she was poison, but as a young man with jug ears and pimples I gladly held out my glass for more deadly nightshade. She said she liked poetry but it was obvious she had no taste for mine, nevertheless I give it a shot and when I had done I sensed a door in her mind slamming shut She was a beauty and far too lovely to be seen with me so we ended up at her place a small apartment saturated with the funk of joss sticks. She read me some poetry of her own occasionally glowering my way to see if I were paying attention, it seemed obvious that I had failed her test. No - no sex we had a 1 on 1 counseling session, I was the hapless client, and quickly judged unfit to imbibe her special shade of toxin.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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