876

Jun 15

she looked at me
with fangs
and stroked my fur
with gnarled hands

all the women
in this part of town
ask for only one thing
so i shake the ash
off my skin
and oblige

all the men
in this part of town
don’t speak
unless they cry before

i talked to artists
that cut themselves for paint
and wondered if they ever
ever
got tired of self pity

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