Your cultivation of my attention was swift, and somewhat impressive.
it was dangerous to dine with you.
I hated to be your dinner date,
because your hands would rule a Kingdom under the table,
and I was a persecuted subject,
Struck by the sudden sweetness of your stare,
I begin to wonder if I am in trouble,
or if I will find my power,
walking out of your hotel room at 4AM for a cigarette, leaving you on the bed,
shivering and shimmering.
I’m so sugary sweet,
so incompatible with your schedule,
sending you so out of sorts that it takes you a week to recover,
but there you go again,
inviting me to dinner.