Thursday, April 22, 2010

Mirrored Smoke Brassiere

Stare at my vagina.
(there's a chastity belt on my secrets.)

Physical nudity has nothing on emotional stripping.
My poetry is lingerie for my soul.
Intellectual dick tease,
I'm a coward.
I don't want to cry.
It'll ruin my makeup.
Capitalist focus,
Forget Sunday, go to Vegas, cash in on character flaws
Lube my ass in a crowded club
I'll give you something hard to attend to!
(besides questions.)
I won't speak plainly
because I'm afraid,
and I'm insecure.
Your flattering interest calls for a tour guide
but I don't want to look at myself.
Let me be an empty cathedral
Wander aimlessly in senseless wonder
Crush into velvet pew
See dust on the stained glass
Spiderwebs in vaulted ceilings
The God you're seeking is out today.
Take beauty instead,
here's a distraction,
TITS AND ASS
fleshlight flash, glossed red leather lips
stick to skin, every sin
church was built to save you after.
Pout purr professional
sex goddamn symbol, baby
I want to be one dimensional
because I don't want
so much.

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