he
peels away her innocence
like
a ripe bruised banana
his
belt on the last hole
barely
contains this gelatinous blob of human
standing
before her
he
lunges for his sweet forbidden fruit
paid
highly for
her
purity incites the flame
a
fire burning a trail like
the
salty tears down her porcelain
painted
face
she
teeters on stilettos
playing
dress up in his twisted game
like
a wounded animal trapped
in
the cage of his arms
a
life she did not choose
a
city that pretends
she
does not exist
invisible
in shadows
a
bitter contrast to
family-friendly
tourist-friendly
Mickey
Mouse
and
the Dark Continent
in
the murky seedy underbelly
of
hourly hotels and dark parking lots
she
is the his favorite ride
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