You’ll do as well as any other shoe;
worn at the heels,
pigeon-toed and dusty –
but who am I to judge?
To quote the whore, Aldonza,
“One pair of arms is like another.”
And for one night,
just to feel a human touch,
I can overlook the crime of you:
saggy, balding, badly dressed.
I’ll tell you anything you need to hear –
Make myself believable
so that, for one night,
you’ll feel like someone cares.
You’re so enthralled by the attention
that I almost turn away
but, like any vampire,
I find it necessary to feed
no matter how repulsive the actual act.
The flattery, false words
you’ve been dying your whole life to hear,
slide in, seamlessly, with other topics –
All centered around you.
How fascinating your life must be,
to create such a fine specimen.
By then you, my victim, are glowing,
almost beautiful, lit from within,
as trust defies all logic
and hope rears its ugly head.
I’ll leave before you wake up;
call my number to see where I went,
realize it’s not mine at all
and I, like a shadow or a bad dream,
disappeared with the night,
leaving your hopes shattered
like a snow globe,
false scene inside, destroyed.
And I, my terrible hunger slaked,
can rest, sometimes months;
then I must hunt again.