, , ,

the jewels drop from her robe,

but she picks them up fast

the light flashing with strobe

picking up nothing that will last,

her discretion, a mirage of chastity.

a canon fires a shot at the mast,

she runs to sea searching for brevity

and finding nothing, uses her blow

the captain sees and ignores in piety.

the pirates arrive in a flow

their ears pierced at the lobe

stealing what’s left of her snow.