Psychology of sin

Psychology of sin.


Oh yes dear,
Thou Blasé’ queen
How nothing affects you,
Know what I mean?

With a waft of the arm,
One chin, a notch too high
She’s sat in the night
One part hollow, two parts sly.

You’re intrigued and by definition,
She’s already won.
The game you didn’t even know had begun.

Crosses her legs.
Skirt a hair length too high.
Blowing out smoke,
An exaggerated sigh.

How you whistled inside
Not just with your ears.
But with blindness to facts as you fell for her tears.

“she’s using you” your friend insists.
“Don’t be stupid!” Yells another.
But she’s so perfect.
The spitting image of your mother.

Copyright G.P Williamson 2014.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s