Master of the House

A look to the youth with the innocent eyes
with his hand held out
and his tongue spilling lies,
so she follows

A tilt of her head with a courtesans ease
accepting his word
she falls down to her knees
so she swallows

And when he is spent his boot lashes out
upon her fair hand
his venom is ground
so she's hollow

she pulls from the dress her seam ripping shears
his blood's not so blue but it spills with her tears
the guilt of her heart, the gilt of his hair
the glow of the fire in his now vacant stare