poetry

Pied Piper

I turned up at his door

With a bottle of Wine

Drunk already

In liquor

And in him

Struggling to stand

Wearing a smile

Knocked thrice

Called out his name

Until he opened the door

 

Fell straight into his arms

When it finally opened

“Are you the pied piper

I am looking for”, I asked him

“Who are you?”, he asked as he

Helped me up

“Rat, they call me”, I squeaked

As I struggled to stand straight

“Wine from this young lady”, I offered

As it was a trophy

For being so irresistible

 

He saw me as I was some sort of

Crazy, bonkers

He was right,

I was standing at his doorstep

Drunk on a Christmas night

“Dance with me”, I begged

As I held his hand

 

My heart leaped

So oblivious his demeanor

Did he know, oh did he

What he was doing to me

 

We danced the night,

Until our lips found each other

And we crashed on the floor

Staring at the ceiling

“It’s Christmas”, I said

As I climbed on him like a rat

Measured the length of his face

Pulled his nose

Cupped his face,

“Tell me, are you the pied piper?”,

I whispered breathing all over nape

 

He tugged my hair,

“Rats, I tell you”, he said

He pulled me close and rolled me over

Against his charms, there wasn’t a cover

The rat gave up, wasn’t going to leave

The city

Until he did and then,

Following the pied piper to where ever he would go.

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