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Click hereshe waltzed in with an air of smug certainty
but I think it was just her deadly perfume.
I envied her beauty, or rather,
I envied the looks she got,
and wondered that so vacuous a cow
could be so lauded for her magnetic charm -
her tits hanging out like unmoored boats,
her breath reeking of cotton candy,
her teeth and lips tattooed on,
her eyes unnaturally dark and shiny.
I retreat into the crowd and take my place
as a scientific observer of the scene:
overly coiffed men competing for her smile –
she thinks they want to treat her like a queen,
and pamper her with gifts and luxuries,
but they're just hoping to splooge her doll face
and bind her in servile humiliation.
I know which side I'm rooting for.
never let YOUR OWN SELF be derogatory. YOU ARE YOURSELF BE PROUD AND WITH YOUR OWN WORTH, tk u mlj lv nv
and trying to distinguish between content (which I find almost upsetting, and absolutely seething) and craft. Is the narrator a cat, a jealous woman, a man? Whatever the case, it's powerful.
get into it, fuck her on the floor in front of everyone, taste her nastiness; otherwise some lines in poem need rework