A girl, alphabets
On her hair, loads bullet thoughts.
Her first line of fire:
Fugitive motions.
But first, a lucid repast
Of flambéed delicts.
An apt harvest from
A vale of verified mirth.
Next array, the cub.
The tiger’s outlier,
Defying academic
Gravity with wit.
At last, a thriller,
Pages from either leisure
Or legal skirmish.
Sweet life at four-one
A quid pro quo of prudence
Levity and wine.
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| from Adventurer by Fate |
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