The Seduction

The story is told with a kiss,
a look,
a thrust of the hips.

She sashayed into his boredom;
sashayed is the only word to define her walk.
That was all that was needed.

He drank her body on the illicit bed.
Closer, deeper,
please-please consume me so that the 'I' goes away
and becomes you.

She smiled contentedly.
She was done. She hadn't even started.
But she had done what was needed.

In trying to repeat that moment,
he gave away himself repeatedly
as the years and the times went by.

His name, his art, his face -- his love.
So nobody could see him any more.
'He' went away.
'He' became 'her'.
'He' had died.

One day she thrust him out.
Her body and her spirit rejected
now that she was nourished.
He was born again -- dead!

But, his stillborn corpse pulled a tiny Lazarus trick,
Much to her consternation.
"You're supposed to be dead!"
She muttered in vexation.

"They always die!"
Maybe she hadn't completed the job!
There must be more work to do.