She remembers..
Perhaps she remembers
to well
Before he arrived she always
lit those red candles
Her cottage deep in the woods
was the perfect place
A hoot owl, the muffled bark of
dogs echoing accross the frozen
lake were familliar sounds and
welcome friends
She smiled and hummed a pleasant
tune as she prepared a seafood
platter
O, those glorious days she thought
to herself
He was the perfect lover
The scent of his after shave always
lingered for a day or so
She relished the thought with the
way she'd unbuttoned his shirt
with her teeth and the way his eyes
would gloss over in hopeless
submission to her feminine wiles
Yet, this night and there would be
another knock on her door from
the local policeman who would
once again enquire about the
whereabouts of her lover
The policeman to date was still
without a clue
They were still beguiled by this
womans feigned sense of loss
The police knew nothing of this
womans betrayal of her lover
And the police would never discover
his body at the bottom of the frozen
lake
Yes, there were tears in the wine, but
they were not the tears of loss..but
Revenge..