Come're Options

[Guest_sigh_*]

"Come're. Come here, to me."
Pretending not to see, to hear,
averting her gaze away,
her head shakes side to side,
lips pursed into a thin, tight line.

He smiles, and waits, she would come.
They always come to him; eventually.

Afternoon visitor upset with his lurking
shaking her helpless fist and cursing.
Offering exchange - a deal - foolish promises.
He looks away, as if he cannot see, or hear
not even bothering to pretend to care.

Persistant whispers:
"Come're. Come to me."
He would not chase her down,
Her pupils so large in the night -
so pretty; delicate flower; lovely.

Coaxing, "Come....come now to me".
From her bed she rises into his embrace,
thinking, "This is not so bad".
He savors her sweet breath, tenderly offering escape.
She remembers she's beautiful and she smiles.


Morning comes and they are gone
fragile old bones lay alone


The kiss of death

[Psyche]

Hello sigh!

My, this poem is intriguing. I shall have to re-read several times before commenting. It begins as a love poem, but the finale is truly unexpected...wow....

Was it Death all along that was beckoning her?

Offering exchange - a deal - foolish promises.
He looks away, as if he cannot see, or hear
not even bothering to pretend to care.

I like this bit. Is she actually trying to make a deal with Death? Reminds me of the character in one of Ingmar Begman's movies, who plays chess with Death.

Well, I hope I'm not way off course, do give a few hints before I return to make some comments.
Your poem is impressive.
Sylvia ***