I thought of myself as wise King Solomon in drag. Capable of seeing straight through to the soul of any man who stood before me. Armed with this… Rare insight. This…. psychological sophistication. This…. instinctual radar. I would then consider burning a hole right in the center of it’s fabric like a smoldering menthol. Shining my intellect’s black light on his true intention’s invisible ink. Weigh his treacherous heart against a feather on a scale tethered straight to my breast plate. Or. Offer a pardon in the form of puckered lips, peel back his helmet having deciphered genuine designations in his vital core and press mercy’s kisses in iambic pentameter across his noble flesh. Forgiveness in the form of baptism between my thighs, a royal decree to… take… my… throne.
But you. You managed to blind side my third eye. Shrouded my sensibilities with war stories and smoke rings. Poisoned the royal cup with empty promises and pretty little perjuries. Damn…
I should have destroyed you when I had the chance.