J. James Reider

Such things could never be so transient,

when I've been a practicing obedient.

It was forever about being subsidient,

and so my practice was always lenient.

If she wasn't always so salacious,

perhaps she wouldn't be so malicious.

The maker of her conscience is vicious,

though the soul from her eyes delicious.

The companionship of her being; fleeting,

of the first of our encounters; meeting.

The finality of it all was her; cheating.

So much so it's not worth; repeating.

Notwithstanding the honest gape of her countenance,

nor the perfect ness of her moonlit dance.

It all ended before its maturity whence,

the dreams, they vanished in all their evanescence.