Monday, January 13, 2014

Him.


He contemplates
Sitting in his castle
On an abandoned island 
In a lonely sea,
That sketch of a woman
Recently caught 
drifting with the wind
Her eyes as transparent as a crystal
Bared to him, with all her secrets
Has he met her before?
(His inebriated mind fuels his illusions)
He is certain he knows her
Those arms, those carefree curls in her hair
That smile that wrinkles just beneath her eyes
He drinks his first glass of fine scotch
And then his second
And after that, loses count
Of how much alcohol consumes him
Before he tosses her into the fire
Dismissing her
As another one of his musings
While she burns in his indifference
Fueling her own agony
With these words!

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