CLOCKWORK AVOCADO

Laughing at insipidites,
they lap up
the delicious tang
of her smile –
a glint of a dimple;
once in a while…
Unsuspecting souls
imprisoned by
naiveté,
drink in
not beauty,
but the skill
to beat them at
a game
they conceived.
Now, they
serve time
in her hypnotic hold.
The winning ways
of a bewitcher;
behold!

**

Swipin’ into clockwork orange,
a pattern begins a day…
Courtesies play out
their cuckold farce,
‘auto-smiles’ activate
their charm,
and inane banter
natter it out,
in a horseplay,
that’s ambled
far too long.
Wallowing in
wanton cesspools,
egos have the last dance.

**

He’s intrigued
by the enigma
that’s she…

As she
unravels,
he finds,
what’s concealed,
hidden behind
the door revealed.

Many moons
later…
he’d like to try
another door…
another room
with a view,
one which
promises more
mystery.

The law of
diminishing
marginal utility.