Mistreated Medusa

Careful.
Your denial of me
is most poignant.
Why do you try to turn?
You must forget
how far I can crawl.
You know I was curled in your heart
before seeking the warm glare
of your affection.

Be cautious,
for my wind can come
slow.
My breeze is delicate;
it can slither up your skin
barely touching
with ticklish stroke.

Do not betray
what pulls you,
for I am as light
as the air that hovers
around you,
as weightless as the thoughts
that have left you.

With a glance,
fog
will entrance you,
my tendrils will envelope
you,
and my seduction
will overwhelm you.

Come now,
fear not
what a look can do
because I
am an aficionado,
and I take good care

of my statues.



All Rights Reserved; Elizabeth Bohlander Wilson