Skip the Twist

She couldn't look away from the way
He stabbed his bourbon with a straw
Pushing the ice around in the glass
Slamming it against the sides
Incessant rattling, constant probing.

He couldn't look away from her eyes
Digging for a response, a beckon,
But finding the windows sealed shut,
Suspicion rather than seduction,
Concern rather than compassion.

She saw her concern as compassion
For he was obviously in need
But she smelled his desperation,
And it's a foul cologne, one that
Repels even the kindest heart.

He leaned in even closer,
Peppering her with talk,
For he saw his best shot at his
Prey was to trap it in its lair
And squeeze out any rivals.

She sensed his maneuver,
But knew, unlike him, it
Would fail miserably,
For love needs air and light,
Passion abhors a cage.

He ordered another drink
For himself, but not for her,
The unyielding one who
Rejected him, whiskey straight
With a sharp lemon twist.

She smiled at him, then

Suggested sweet over sour,
Less rather than more,
Share the loving cup,
And it will always be full.

No Pearls Without Diving

He saw the women lying in the sun
As oysters glistening on a platter,
Each open to his taste without
The need to shuck and loosen
Resistant shells, each cradling
A glistening pearl that was
Meant for him and no one else.

The man felt he had luckily stumbled
On a secret cache of treasures.
The open bar, the free buffet,
Where he was the only customer.
Bottomless glasses of beer,
Servers on call to hand him
Pearls to pluck as he pleased.

Pressing into their conversations
He begged to be noticed
Telling each woman his sad tales
Of wandering, of deprivation,
How he had been so long
Without a sweet taste of
Pleasure or satisfaction.

But he would starve no longer,
As he'd found his way to the reef
Rife with color and beauty,
Decked with waving anemone,
And all for him and him alone,
The only diver in the ocean,
The only Neptune in the sea.

To the man's great astonishment,
The sea nymphs were unimpressed.
Eels emerged from the reef's recesses.
Stinging reeds lashed his fingers.
Oyster shells snapped firmly shut,
Glistening pearls concealed
From his clutching and gawking.

That day, as sea waters cooled,
He learned that real pearls are rare
And very dear. To find one,
He must be willing to dive,
With patience and care, not
To disturb the sands and waters,
Nor to anger the sharks.