If you go to sleep with dragons Do they get under your skin like she does? That girl Who is all scales And pricking claws Weeping black mascara And reapplying her lipstick in the bathroom As soon as you’ve kissed it off. The prettiest nightmare But you wouldn’t know it Because you never remember your dreams. She’s green with jealousy And empty conversations But you see how she tends to suicide When she’s had one too many drinks It’s the best way of getting your attention And she’s a whore for that Though not for you Those modest button-ups And pearl earrings But this girl is no Vermeer Spouting little tongues of flame As she lights up A guttermouth with her head in clouds of smoke You’ll burn your fingers if you get too close And you always do Because you’re a masochist under all that machismo. And when, out of sheer exhaustion, Stumbling in the trenches of that lovefare You’ve discovered a replacement Who’s altogether more appropriate To bring home to your mother You’ll wake up on placid sheets Aching for those love bites Wondering who she’s fighting with now And why nothing gets under your skin anymore.
© 2016 Anne Yumi Kobori