Louder Than a Big Bass Drum

Salivate Like a Pavlov Dog

"Don't tell me," she said.

But I did. I couldn't help myself.

It didn't help. I should've known it wouldn't. But I had to. It was a compulsion.

Looking back, I know the problem wasn't hers. It was mine.

Briefly, she attracted men like flames attract moths.

Until they circle, drawn in by the light and heat that blinds them.

Until it kills them.

And I had to tell her this.

I don't know why.

I can't imagine what effect I imagined it would have for me to speak these words. To tell her this truth.

She denied it, of course.

I can't think of anything else she might have done.

And I stood back. Watching. The moths circling.

The words lingering, sizzling around the flame.

Too late to take back.