Mephista to Miss Black

You’re the girl who does know better but.

Getting so smart no man

will call, sister made

of clay like me.

Confession: I picked

the lock on your diary.

You slept

for seven years,

so I wrote this

in bubble script

on the tissued pages:

My horse comes

when called “Amnesia.”

Avenger of the plagiarist

and the cheat, stunt-double

for justice, matinee idol, the idler,

your seamstress.  Rollerskating,

I like to fall.  I sew the dead

together, your research

assistant. Offer myself limb

by limb to this house on fire.

I do your dirty work,

Missus. I’m that wench.