Hook, Line & Sink Her

“How’s your sex drive, woman?” he asked with faces now pulled forward in his direction.

Slapping the table with a red face, “Jesus, maybe I need to borrow your fucking microphone, Bryan, before I answer that!” Tapping the air in short beats, “Testing, testing you rusty old latch. You’re lucky I like antiques,” she said awkwardly winking at him after choking on her last swig.

Laughing, Bryan puffed out his chest, “Rusty, old latch? Does that mean I’m wise beyond my years, or what?”

“Haha, I’m afraid it means you’re just rusty…you’re loud and you say whatever is in your mind without thinking about the consequence. You need oil….finesse,” she pointed out as he snickered.

“Nah, you’re just cute when you’re caught off guard. I like to push you. For your highest good, of course,” he winked. “You’re not gonna win this,” he said, mocking her as he pulled a napkin out of the tray. “I have an idea. Humor me.”

Pulling out his pen, she grew ever the more intrigued. Nothing was too obscure with him, so she delighted in the brilliance of this new, spontaneous idea.

“I want to free associate with you. Just breathe, tap into that inner goddess and let loose, woman,” he prompted her as he scrawled “Poetry on a Napkin” across the top. “I’ll write the first thought that comes to mind, then you do the same, after you read my sentence. So on n so forth.”

She rubbed her chin inquisitively as a grin formed on her face, “Oh, you picked the wrong gal for this, dear.”

“I always choose wisely,” he said as he began to write out his first sentence. Seriosuly. Very seriously. Which made her laugh because she never really saw him so determined.

“The Dr. said you like swinging, my dear. The kind that unfastens the tide and rips a smile ‘cross your face, ear to ear.”

Sliding it over toward her he commands, “Make it epic, woman. Touch me with your mind and undress me with words.”

Looking down at her opponents words, she giggled, listened to the lyrics playing on the jukebox and tapped her head, “Such pressure!”

“He liked the destruction of her poker face dissolving like lava into the tides; the melting of facades and unabashed lies.”

Reading her words, he winced, “You can do better, my love. Dive.”

Snatching it back, she exclaimed, “I’m building…relax, Casanova!”

“He liked the destruction of her poker face dissolving like lava into the tides; the melting of facades and unabashed lies.”

“The Dr. is a madman with eyes set for the shore as the sirens bask on rocks, casting out the full moon that bathes the enchanting whore.”

Warmer, I can play with this,” he said flirtatiously as he covered his words like a school boy.

“The shore turned in and put her to bed , where old men wandered and sunk to their heads.”

… The hour ticked on as they stole glances and flashed coy smirks…

“Now, I’m going to ask again. How’s your sex drive, woman?” he said slipping the finished poem beneath her fingers, so it slid off the bar and nestled lightly between her legs.

“Tell me, is it possible for the siren to be male?” she asked.


ANCHOR HER –

HOOK, LINE & SINK HER

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The Dr. said you like swinging, my dear. The kind that unfastens the tide and rips a smile ‘cross your face, ear to ear.


The Dr. is a madman with eyes set for the shore as the sirens bask on rocks, casting out the full moon that bathes the enchanting whore.


The shore turned in and put her to bed , where old men wandered and sunk to their heads.


There’s no safe place in the arms of grace. For one man will shudder in terror, and the other will lace up his shoes and continue the chase.


Neither will win as the cast their hooks, she’ll just cast back spells and stun them with a marquess and her well-played rooks.


A fierce, fire-ridden, soul-bitten, shape-shifter raven, that will soar into your mind.


A gypsy-travelin’, snare-settin’, mystery-unravelin’ whore, who will unshackle the ties that bind.


I tripped and fell five feet off the ground, with the Gates of Hell behind – the Devil once was bound to a letter that only you could find.


Anchor her – hook, line and sink her. This ship will turn over and you’ll be washed out to shore if you don’t follow my lead. The waves are rising and the bow is thrusting into your garden where I’m planting my seed.


Sirens on the sidelines and the perverted pirates on the ship. Oh captain, take me away from the safe harbor and show me new lands…show me I am not merely human afterall. 

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