Stiletto

She can kill with her eyes,
And wound with a smile. 
Her laugh is so gentle and infantile.
She’ll leave you all alone,
with no goodbyes.
She’ll leave you in the dark,
alone for a while.

Her person is small,
but her vibrato is much.
She thinks she’ll love you.
You’ll do in a clutch.

She’ll callously cut you
and laugh while you bleed.
It’s just your essence,
that’s all that she’ll need. . . .
It’s really just her ego that you feed.

You sit all forlorn, broken hearted and sad,
There, there, you're just a young lad! 
Oh Dear Lord, you say:  What was it really
That I was thinking of . . .
It’s just your love,
out the window,
on the wings of a dove.