Friday, 17 June 2011

Mantis

She sits apart, with lips like darts.
In fits and starts, she'll slit their hearts.
She spits and barks, omits no parts.
With fingers arched, she'll slit their hearts.
A question mark, no maps or charts.
In fits and starts, she'll slit their hearts.
Lips split apart, the man is marked.
In fits and starts, she'll slit his heart.
She'll get what's asked, make no remark.
With fingers arched, she'll slit his heart.
She splits apart, a witless art.
In fits and starts, she slit his heart.
And in her teeth are bits and parts
Of that poor boy's beating heart.

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