The Collusion of Wile

a corpulent sleight of hand untethered and within its own will kindling a masquerade Your intent is not to harm me a deliberate act of wicked dexterity fashioned to channel bile from moonbeams Your intent is not to harm me a psalm pretty and full of veiled decor scented, malevolent Your need is to devour the warmth of summer boiling a stain upward into hollow cheeks masking indifference An excuse is as good as a reason lies in regalia lying cherry blossoms to roses blood rich in carnal appetite Your intent was not to harm me hunger throws a pearl from a nylon wire whistles, ensnares and devours. You never had control.