About a Prisoner of Love (Props to Christopher Logue’s War Music: An Account of Homer’s Iliad)
Look at the smile on my face. I knew you were selfish. Abandoned, you left me on the side of the road. Gone. Put yourself in my place. Left, on the side of the road. Naked. I knew you would own me — broken and falling to pieces — in swirling storming faints. I would let you stand me on my head, spin me like a top, a dreidel — and catch me before I fell. Then, you said you would sleep with her because, “Why not? It’s not a competition — though you might win. Its not about… us.” That’s balls. CUT!
Copyright 2017 by E Maria Shelton Speller. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.