Beautiful women
live everywhere,
as the leaves on the trees
as stones in the forest,
all so dangerous,
and designing
of course to trip you up.
They pick up their mail,
put out the cat,
answer the door.
It's true.
Every time
you ring a doorbell,
you never know
what face will reveal itself.
You can't know, either,
when one might cross your path,
snare your breath
in her hair, catch
your hand in her blouse,
and then dissolve
your whole body
to loose teeth glinting
among little bits of bone.

Carol Frome
CAROL FROME has other work forthcoming in Colorado Review and other publications, and she has previously appeared in Northwest Review, California Quarterly, and Nimrod, among others. She is a Discovery/The Nation award winner, and editor of Manifold Press.
The Adirondack Review