Dont

by Dima Adam Dima

Copyright 2021

Don’t trust the water, the devil washed herself in it.

Its stinks of costly perfume and scented rooms, plastic flowers that seemingly bloom, delicate things that break men and scatter iron resolve
Don’t look into those eyes.
Those eyes like a cat ,they have seen it all. They might show you everything. Take voice from speech.
Carry contents from mind and hurl them into deep orbit. Those eyes want to eat, they need to feed on a
soul because the bearer is soulless
The bearer wears a little black dress that hugs her form. She tempts without action. Tempts only by
intent.

Don’t ask her for her name, or her number or where she lives or where she works or what she
likes to do on weekends
Because she will lie and her lie will be true.

Because her face is pretty. Pretty and sweet like rich brown
chocolate. It beckons, its glistens and when her eyes are half shut and her upper incisors show, a man
could explode.
Don’t walk by her or ask her questions. You don’t know how to put out that fire and she doesn’t know
who kindled it. She could blame you. You might not make it home to your wife.

She might make you pay.
And she might not let you sleep tonight