She rises as a boy
and falls — a woman
she serves as a sister
dies as a whore

She has never known a mother’s
tenderness, so she carries another touch
in her eyes

a longing for love, a longer — imploring

Deploring the earth for

had she not the ripening

of Eve, she’d have been a Lector
or a Napoleon.

art, cotton, and girl image

Home cats are fed, wedded and cheated on
alley cats are bedded and spitted on
what’s the point, the Misses are all Mistreated
It’s all the same.

So the kitten learns to bite
and sprint as a tigress
turns her gentleness

into a knife.

Wakes up by the side

of dead lovers, with the word “temptress”
written in their blood
, and smiles across their smug

satisfied faces.

She is Miss Shame, Miss Misbehave
Miss not- a- game

a prey missing, a slave by day —
the night’s empress.

aesthetic, black, and dress image
a poem on the concept of "femme fatale" in literature

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P.S. I wrote this article below before COVID! It's surprisingly still accurate? hahahah check it out, it's fun:

for more poems, see

lots of love,
viola