Temptresses

by flammeusgladius

Temptresses

 

They probed his wounded judgment in the waste—
And found it wanting, as they knew they would.
How swiftly righteous pride defects from good!
Toward sheer destruction it proceeds with haste
After you give it just a little taste.
In its soliloquies both could and should
Figure immensely. In its neighborhood
Are faceless neighbors, never to be faced.
Temptresses they were not — not in the sense
Reserved in common speech for words that glitter.
Their every exhalation gave offense.
Their every stab at sweetness turned out bitter.
Nevertheless, he panted for events
That they delivered like a she-wolf’s litter.

 

—Tom Riley