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His new M.O.
sleeked out and slicked back
with style
No holding back -
take charge
take no prisoners
take every eye when he walks in the room and leave them -
surrendering
A flash of a frisky smile
perfect pearly whites presenting a flurry of
perfectly picked verses for your appraisal
Never mind your approval
He doesn't operate that way.
If you can differentiate
the facts from the fiction of his perfectly perfected persona
prod and peel for a glimpse of the real
underneath
You're wasting your time
for further beneath the layers
of fantasy and lies
the original idea of the man
Rots
a corpse
of misplaced trust,
misconstrued hope,
misgivings of every single selfless act and notion
that were once the sustenance of his cells.
No more -
He grins
the super slick grin of a man
caught up in the act
denying his disintegrating disposition any sort
of decent resurrection
Another tragic M.O. system failure.
Sincerely, Lori 