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Like Cigarettes

...Her complexity still lures suitors;
She goes through men like cigarettes
Savoring each puff
until her personality has burned them up
As if she was the Sun itself, and they,
like Icarus, got too close.
When she's done with them she smashes them
Along with their paper-mache self-images
Into an ashtray with a single destructive finger
Or flicks them onto the ground
...Or even shorts them,
and sets them aside somewhere
To finish later...
Always with the cool,
predatory, and mysterious
calm composure of
A real Lioness...

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
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