Call this lady what you will–
Karma, or Justice, or Sweet Revenge–
Her stale perfume will find you still
And hunt you down until the end.
She came for Charlie in leather and lace
And feigned sweet kisses on his cheek,
But left him begging for a taste
And splattered all across the street.
She came for Blake so surely next
And poked and prodded like a child
Until his only route for rest
Was in a cell for all the while.
So now the question left to ask
At least as far as I can see
Is when she will take off her mask
And, at last, reveal herself to me?
Copyright Sarah Davidson 2021
