On our first date
he handed me a bouquet of Polaroid
snapshots of all his ex-girlfriends
sawed in half.

At dinner, he tied my hands
behind my back with a train of scarves,
ordered me a platter of roasted doves,
pinched my nose as I tilted my head back
and swallowed them down
in one big feathered gulp.

For dessert, he let me lick the pie crumbs
from his immaculate gloves,
then emptied his top hat
onto the table, tipping the waitress
in seventeen frightened rabbits.

Back at his apartment, he took
a boa constrictor out of a large
wooden crate and fed her my right leg.

I wasn't sure if he thought me pretty
until the next morning,
when he put on a blind fold
and fucked me, face down
on a bed of nails.