Broadhead SinTax Dialogue

Living life on the edge of trust
She stands back against the wall…
facing him as she draws the bow towards her breasts
Her, in her summer dress… slightly higher than mid-thigh
A light scent of Jasmine honey detectable in the air

He, looking like Bogey stepped out of ‘African Queen’…
cig cocked in the corner of his mouth… long ash waiting to drop

He holds the nock and pulls back the arrow… broadhead tips the shaft aimed straight at her heart
Taxed to the brink, he takes a drag and inhales hard to steady the hand… fear invades him
Such commitment betwixt the twain
Living on the edge of temptation
She sits, back against the wall
summer dress now creeps higher yet on thigh
legs slightly spread… not whorish in manner, but rather seductress

He, looking like Bogey stepped out of ‘African Queen’…
cig cocked in the corner of his mouth… long ash waiting to drop

He now holds the bow… stretched in full arc of the draw
digits clutch the string and nock
His aim is true, his intent yet unknown
Phallus tips the arrow shaft… sin, they both quiver… lump in throats
A light scent of Jasmine honey now pervades the air
Her heart pounds anticipation… pleasure or pain
He takes a drag and inhales deep to steady the hand… testosterone surging
Does she/doesn’t she … will he/won’t he…
Such commitment betwixt the twain

poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.