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Huntress Returns
Knife dripping,
High-heeled boots up on the table,
Faux diamond studded wrist bands covering
defensive wounds.
ZK comes fresh from a kill.
He struggled mightily,
Trying to resist that low cut
blouse those
high cut leggings
her
high brow, low
brow wit, wet with
sin, her eyes with
the promise that
no one you have
ever met was
anything like
this.
It was her wrist,
The way she
flicked the ash from the cigar
She smoked it in
full while playing Skee-Ball
and humming Beethoven’s
Fifth.
That was right before she got him to cry
and tell her about
his deadbeat father before
eating her out.
The knife on the table is still warm from him.
Sacrificed on its edge,
He saw paradise for a small fee.
She saw it too.
Wow, ZK's intense, and the fact that the man is on his knees, literally and figuratively, is just such a strong image.
ReplyDeleteLOVELOVELOVE the second full stanza. The rhythm's perfectly disjointed--almost like stabbing someone. And the ending was perfect. It's like how her killing him, and him being killed by her, were good things that happened to both of them. I don't know, I just felt really touched by that last stanza.
I love ZK and your poetry. It just makes me feel so good on the inside, in a completely sick and twisted sort of way.
The last two lines are so interesting! Of course, all of it is, but I really like how it ends, as Ada says, like it was good for both of them.
ReplyDeleteI like the beginning starting with her after the kill, then we go back to see more of how it happened.
It is a little creepy, but it's just so fascinating.