I was asked to write a poem that extends a metaphor as a conceit throughout the poem…This is what I came up with.
An uninvited guest, I asked him to come in.
Around my neck he slipped his belt, and tightened with a grin.
It was just a game he invented; a rehearsed improvisation.
Over my head, I stared into the eyes of my predator.
It was a domestic cooperation.
I snatched my clothes off the floor, a bruised and self-made whore.
I thanked him for the horror, and walked the bastard to the door.
Maybe I had misled; an unintended contribution.
In the mirror, I stare into the eyes of my predator.
We were intimate strangers.