And experience gave me sight…
I watched as he entered my world
hiding the wired tubes inside his vest
filled with explosive ego
giving a wink in my direction
To spark a countdown:
A weak to weaken my knees,
a night to call out his name,
a text to ignore my need for attention,
a missed call to his collection…
The warm surprise when he remembers my birthday,
trading suppressed anger for the glow in my Hollywood gown,
the dates toward a promised life,
only promised with him and his silk sheets that warm his iced affection.
His reluctant stance on negotiating a peaceful return of my heart he held for ransom,
as if he knew its value
You could smell the dynamite on his breath
my name was a command
how fear struck my soul when his tone rose
how my muscles tense when his fists clench
How long will it take to master sprints
in thousand currency leather shackles,
six inches above tar,
before I smell the sweet scent of freedom and safety
over the grime mascara that dries into a cover-up tattoo
over the reddening handprint on my exfoliated face?
My mind rewinds to the present moment
his wink passes me and reaches her
a pretty face with a bright beating canvas
of a happy childhood and ambitious youth
Do I warn her?
To not risk her innocence for a sniff of his powdered charm
or to notice the black soot hidden in his nostrils
she gives me the smile, acceptance.
he gives her the grin, another win.
The countdown begins…