pinky culmination of sophisticated love betrayal revenge plot
– george l stein

submerged, cleansed, purged
every day brings a fresh coat of sin
and every night she strips again
the fragrant salts of purification

aware, thin inconsistent sounds in domicile halls
tracing intrusions through rice-paper walls
firm when firm is in need, then bending as a supple reed,
plasticine ronin; the characteristics of a favorite, rubber toy
breasts bouncing and basing in pirouette and pas de chat
the villains pull a punch or two for sake of plot

observe,
for Love conveys
in the subtlest ways
in the way she holds her generous sword
lifted from foe number two without betrayal of spoken word
she points her weapon toward the single path
to another heart wishing and wanting and waiting to bleed.
elbows and wrists straight. Erect and unblinking
confidence, focus, the hint of the beginnings of a smile
the flat of her steel at a parallel perfect to the earth’s horizon
ignoring the almost imperceptible curvature.
Is this the big finale or just another
development in a plot that’s been re-written, treated, and re-cut
pinky culmination of sophisticated love betrayal revenge plot
and she does o k

the music rises and the music swells. Thin, able fingers strike tubular bells
a coup de grace is an ending and a beginning to a sequel never to see the day
the sword descends through villain blood, flesh and bone
atrium and aorta, memory and substance.
in a freshly fallen snow, death is a but a burgundy, corn syrup flow
The innocence before the first soda was spilled
and continues on through the second and third row

now love betrays a sadness in the way she dangles her sword
after a red-tinged orgy of tempered, spattered blood
the emptiness that follows the offing of the last of ones clumsy foes
now who will damn her and stalk her,
pelt her wet and naked body with poorly aimed blows
the burden of being the siren queen of bleeding hearts

there will be a time
for harmony, warmth, and sweet resolution
for all the sadness and life’s-blood spilt
someday, it is said
but for now, perhaps, another warming bath
in the fragrant salts of purification