Strange Magic.

In the hazy light of a bedside lamp,
Among books and postcards,
And the words of a familiar song,
You watch me sway to the tune.

Caressing the silk stockings on my legs,
You ask me if I’m seducing you.
Heart-shaped glasses glowing in the dark,
I say yes.

It’s alarming that,
Every move you make,
Makes me catch my breath,
Makes me shamelessly crazy for you.

You have me by my broken heart,
So that I miss you,
Even when you’re next to me,
Watching me take off my velvet dress.

You talk about Joyce and Fitzgerald,
And Hemingway and Lacan,
But all I want to hear you say,
Is your promise to never hurt me again.


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