Frank DeCanio

Gossamer Girl

Could artifice work such a toxic kiss
despite its guile? Demure, yet filled with grace,
she glares at me as if she might dismiss
me out of hand, and put me in my place.
She doesn’t play like novices who scowl
to snuff out flames of passion that they stoke.
But like some hungry spider on the prowl,
she’s poised to pounce on quarry with one stroke,
as soon as they’re entangled in her web.
Indeed. When I approach this stern cashier,
her sweet hello accelerates the ebb
and flow of my heart’s racing blood. And fear
in my glazed eyes assures her she holds sway
as her smile spins the silk that dooms her prey.

{Frank DeCanio}