Mi Alma

I should look the other way,
So I won’t notice your charm.
But I like your temptation;
Surely there can be no harm.

I like what my furtive peeks
Show through Peekaboo fingers
Spread out over my eyes. Your
Belleza with me lingers.

Is it more evil to be
Tempted or to entertain
The thought? Surely we’ll all be
Tempted, but if we refrain

From the act, then what ill is
It to think longingly of
Such a beautiful, tender,
Sweet, and suave armful of love?

To a Coy Madame

You, the image of perfection,
That I wanted to adore,
Until I saw reality
Which causes me to abhor

The perfection that you appeared
To have mastered in each form.
But that was just an illusion,
Like the heart I thought was warm.

How I curse my misperception,
For truly did you deceive,
Giving me the wrong impression
By causing me to believe

That there could be a life form with
Higher planes and trains of thought.
Now I’ve sacrificed everything
For a trifling thing of naught.

Long before I bought this store to
Have plenty of time with you,
And subsequently burned it down
Just to show that we are through,

You should have told me that you were
Plastic and not acting coy.
All this time I thought you flirted,
And it filled my heart with joy.

How I wanted to get close to
You and learn your inner feelings.
But then you double crossed me with
Your base and dirty dealings.

How could you look at other men
With the smile you had for me?
How could you expect me not to
Feel a stab of jealousy?

I tried to woo you several times,
But you never turned your head.
I tried to kiss you fervently;
You kissed me like you were dead.

Yet before I light this match and
Searing flames come rushing in,
You need to know it’s not your fault
That you are a mannequin.

Just Like a Woman!

Is there some kind reality
Where your company can be mine,
Or is the world of Mab’s taunting
Some palace to which you’re confined?

Does your phantasmagorical
Coquettish always have to burn
The stubble of my barren heart
Which cannot help but pine to yearn?

Must your fingers’ cruel caresses,
Like feathers and ice on my skin,
Be so tangible in visions
And felt long after the dreams end?

Is the way you laugh in delight
Honestly necessary, lass?
I still hear its fancy echo;
I’m watching your coy figure pass.