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Delilah Syndrome

Ashen’s the rose grown from this romance’s ruin:

Another victim gone rigor mortis from the sting

Of a vixen unhinged. The once warm, mezzo-soprano hymns

Of a summer-love’s Romeo-charm now moribund:

Blizzard-muzzled t’sing the song of Misery’s

jigsaw puzzled stanzas.

The crimson corollas weep, cat-o-nine-tails

whipped and whimpering

from their mambo-b-beat b-beating heart

cringed in arrhythmia

‘til all its ichor she’s guzzled like ail out of her sadistic

Syringe plunged into my chest damn-near cardiac arrest.

Nothing is spared from her succubus binge:

Not tooth or nail,

Nor freckle or hair.

The scalp impaled

Beyond repair.

A smorgasbord of scheming schmooze

‘til the final harpy’s chord fizzles on the horizon

& all that remain’s a heap

of scabby skin ‘n’ bone

all alone,

Smoking atop a pyre of petals singed.

But alas, I’m the fool, the fool t’keep

loving her yet again and again.

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