You’ve come for me again;
a riddled tongue promising
denouement to malaise.
Are such covenants elixir
or placebo to disease?
Yours is a stoic seduction.
With each new day you disappear
it loiters longer in your wake.

Emancipated from reason
I might once have followed
and escaped the banality of this game,
though I found you more alluring
when you danced upon a grave,
a crooked finger and a whispered name.
Whatever oaths you’ve made
are neither exorcism nor aid
for a repossessed illusion.

Allow me to expand my rhetoric
before your thaumaturgy starts.
I cannot mold myself into boxes
or line them with my shame,
nor can I weave my regret
into a necklace for the moon.

© jolen 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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Hi Jolen,
I am most familiar with this seduction.
The temptation that can almost be enchanting in its appeal. I may well have succumbed on more than one occasion had I not been so filled with dread on where I may find myself.
Best to just keep forging ahead and wear our battle scars with pride.
Another superior piece.

Alison xx


If only tongues could wag after tasting the elixir of your words, what sounds could they make but the grunting of two sweat laced lovers? Your Seduction is no placebo. You make me wanna dance on the graves of the old poets and unleash my throbbing thaumaturgy on the virgins whose ears have yet to hear your rhetoric. Most sweet, you are in fine form. Congrats on the nib (now look what you’ve done, even the innocent word ‘nib’ has erotic undertones for me!). 😉 Cher Loup xx PS – I like the mournful last stanza, it expresses your regret… Read more »


Wow! The images are working very hard here to lift a harsh statement free of despair. They carry the poem very gracefully and forcefully.

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