Without Bait

I am a hook
without bait.
Void of the prize of
a plastic pink lure,
still swaying in the water,
pointed and metallic.

I can slide through the skin
of your lip, creating
what you hope to be
a temporary adornment.
Because once you get closer,
I'm not who you thought I was,
right? There's something better
out there, and you want to find it.

So, like all the others
with the now-healed spot of
scar-tissue shinging subtly on their faces,
(just a past mistake, honey,
just a silly mistake),
you'll thrash wildly, throwing you head
this way and taht
until you are free.

And you'll swim away,
your silver tail glinting in the
watery sunlight.
The pinprick of pink skin
I left behind already starting
to fade.