My Web Beguile~

Every Writer’s Resource

Sadly, how quickly the heat of night’s emotions turns cool in the morning breeze,
And the softness of your heart and the hardness of your sensuality controlling our night reverses roles when viewed in the sunlight, 
Abandoned phone calls add up in piles like discarded conversations,
like disposable pickup lines at last call,
Painfully reminded, I am but a footnote as taken from “The Velvet Towel Life” where age has doomed us to a life of 2:00 A.M thank you Mam
And the shadows on the walls are all I’m allowed to recall as we pass like perfect strangers in the halls, being perfectly loyal to the creed of don’t talk don’t tell and all will be well,
I know truthfully nothing is well, I am not well, not allowed to have lingering signs of being anything other than a single line in your perfectly designed book of concubines,
One glass of wine and I do smile, the pain subsides, like the pain of birth equally quickly forgotten and I am looking forward to nightfall where I will again go hunting for something worthwhile of my feeding.
Maybe this time I will drain just enough, keep them alive long enough to stay awhile, mesmerized by my tranquilizing liquid pulsating into their exposed pores,
Maybe this time they will survive long enough to greet the sunlight with a breakfast smile,
For I am the collective of all the spiders with whom you have been flirting,
While sadly you are merely my consolation fly caught in my web beguile,
After centuries of disguising, this dance of ours has become more commonly known as dating