I wrote this many years ago at Christmas about those nice, polite women who stand outside large department stores in the mall and approach you as you enter. I realize it serves as an allegory for some people who lure you into the promise of a good debate, but has laid a trap of argument instead. Not my best, but I wanted to share.
The Perfumer
There she is.
She?s standing there.
Her scent web spun
Around some innocent bystander.
Smiling and walking
But drawn in at the same time
In an arc of polite gestures and refusals.
All the while
Looking
Watching
Preparing her next pitch.
With a quiet wave of her long arm
She snares another
At the same time
Releasing
Discarding her old quarry
Moving in for the next kill.
The sure thing.
Wrapped in the fine mist
Of exotic flavours
Mixed well
Within the pungent vibrating pale petals
And lilies
Setting free the scent
In short waves of perfume.
Beware.