Miss Reaper
She would throw words at me
ones which she hardly means
but only to annoy me
she will do it anyway
to pinch me,
to hurt me,
playfully,
garner my attention,
without seeking it
She would come to me
with a childlike expression
in her eyes,
twinkling with mischief,
and she would pretend to ask
what she already knows
just to keep me interested
She reaps and sings
melodies and things
stories of love
and anecdotes from kings
she flies on her spoken words
and shouts
"Who needs wings?"
She calls me her poet
and herself my poem
one that I am hardly done with
one that will take forever
for me to write
and comprehend
Because she is mystery
and I,
Well !
I am intrigued
