June Bug

With Bambi eyes all aflutter, I drink from the well of men.
A paper lantern hangs from every bloody coat hanger.
Under the cloak of 6 am, I am to be born again.

Lost in a June bug cocktail, I fall for a Parisienne.
He bought me roses, and I threw them in anger.
With Bambi eyes all aflutter, I drink from the well of men.

You know, I think about you every now and then.
For a red-blooded man, you were placid in manner.
Under the cloak of 6 am, I am to be born again.

To my dirty photographs, you would say très bien.
Rubbing coconut rum into skin, I would yammer.
With Bambi eyes all aflutter, I drink from the well of men.

Darling, I need you like I need goddamn medicine.
Inside a chrysalis, I preach grief-stricken slander.
Under the cloak of 6 am, I am to be born again.

You left me with echoes of Non, je ne regrette rien.
With starry thighs and coal miner skies, I languor.
With Bambi eyes all aflutter, I drink from the well of men.
Under the cloak of 6 am, I am to be born again.

---

This was the first Villanelle I ever wrote. It was originally published by Idle Ink.