15.09.15 strategy

her eyes 

the colour

of the steely Moscow  skies

of her youth

hair the colour

of winter wheat 

                                                                lost when I found her 

she 

was 

everyone’s girl

but 

she belonged to no one

the morals

and

flexibility of pink spider

she was at war with her life

and

herself

she asked for my darkest fantasy

knowing  she  would

become it

in return

I taught her 

Love is the 

only strategy

for survival