I offer only this, a bitter capricious love
The first thing I will ask you for is a hit off your cigarette. I want one. I like the dark smoke in my lungs and I want it to be yours.
If we are connected, I will steal food off your plate. This is a sign.
I caper and dance on the hood of your car. I will leave money on your floor. I will turn your snippet of a dream into a screenplay.
I will study the garbage discarded in the bark shavings outside your crumbling apartment building.
I am always looking for treasure.
If you want the color red or illumination or a theory on the life of shadows, I can put the spikes down for that tent.
If I love you, I will bite, not out of anger but of joy. I have plotted your body for sweet tender parts. I will straddle you just to watch you struggle away from me.
I run away with your toys in my mouth. The brazen theft must be followed by the symbolic chase. How we tumble together on the floor will predict the future.
I understand if you are apprehensive. I see the questions glitter in your eyes.
Apprehension shows a good judge of character. I am not a good judge. I am a dirty sprite laughing in an alleyway. My pockets contain grimoires made of filing card recipes and bottle caps. I will to lure you away into uncharted territory until you are lost. I will leave you. I have been known to disappear for years. As much as my presence burns, my absence will leave ice in your marrow. I return on impulse that mimics obsession.
I will come back to find you amongst strangers holding out a cigarette, asking who would like a hit.