THE PUPPETEER BY Ahmed Shayo

I am her slave.
She
Is the point between breaths where
The air
Clasped between lungs
Sips off in phantom gasps
Every time
She drops words
On the lines of arteries and veins,
Drowning me breathless
With the promise of her tongue
Wrapped
Around every phrase…
Every utterance…
Every letter she threads into sentences
And hangs their sense up
Naked
Like small G’s
On D’s that keep rising higher.
And like an avid reader
I become
Hooked
Before I ever make it to the bottom of the page…
To the end of the paragraph…
From the beginning of the first word.
All along she simply wants me
Wrapped around
The small of her finger,
Puppet
For her marionette.

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