With a bowing head
she welcomed the contrivance
her plan hid in mind
Fools thought her broken
She smiled at the morons’ schemes
her vengeance supreme
The arch in her brows
hiss of her inner being
only dunce ignores
Stellar detection
she examined first the clowns
The idiots stared
A flutter arose
In hearts of the compromised
The innocent woke
Prime numbers sashayed
The nerds ran helter-skelter
Her arms crushed their will
Reading of the poem:
She smiled at him. He was getting more interesting by the day. She always knew that her interest in men was more of the sapiosexual kind but had not realized until this day how much this was true. It was not that he was not handsome, far from that. In fact, she would classify him quite high on the handsome scale although his features might not be the classical handsome face. Yet it was not that which attracted her. What appealed to her most was the fact that he knew so much about a variety of matters and spoke like her several languages, some of which she did not speak herself.
He sensed her keener interest and was visibly flattered. He moved closer to her and she nudged towards him, her left flank now touching his right flank. She could feel the heat seep towards her from under his shirt. She felt all warm and cosy and it gave her a fuzzy feeling. He looked intently at her. Her eyes shone with that particular sheen which had captivated him right from the start. Unlike his green and gold speckled eyes, her eyes bore a dark liquid intensity that he had rarely seen in the eyes of the girls he had flirted with before.
This one was going to be trouble for his heart if she did not respond to his wishes in the way he wanted. He knew she wanted and celebrated her freedom. Would they be able to keep this feeling despite the both of them being so fiercely independent, he wondered? Yet he knew that every time he was away from her it was like something within him was missing. He simply had to come back to her or her to him, he was not sure which one of them wandered back to the other. Like drunken sailors they seemed to rift apart and then stumble into each other again.
It was as if an invisible thread with a spring-like quality was holding them and brought them back to each other when they wandered away too far. He had heard a saying once that people who were meant to meet were tied by an invisible thread. If the saying was true, then he and she were apparently glued together with several servings of invisible thread. He smiled to himself. He liked the idea of being strung up as long as it was with her…
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