Coaxing the princes. With promises of sex. As all princes must be convinced. The ave the beauty. Or what passes for it.
Numbering her strangers by the shapes of their penises. Little girls tracing their men with worn out crayons. Little girls pretending they know what they're doing. Little women denying they're old enough to answer for what they've done.
Life is a true or false question. And I'm always wrong.
You pour the water. Thirst your only motivation. Lost in the tension on the molecules. That something so small could decide for us.
I don't know what I have left to want. I just know that it's still waiting for me to decide.
I don't know what life is or why is tries so hard to convince us. I just know that it's less likely to spill over the closer that it get to the top.
She's not a princess. Will never be one. But she hasn't forgotten her princes.
Tuesday
10/30/2007 01:03:00 AM
Sad Labels:
dark art
,
loneliness
,
verse
Post a Comment