her claim to fame was a well-known name
she’d fucked him as a courtesan
back in the time of Eminem
who don’t apologise
never explain
there’s no pain with
emotions ambered
in opiates
platinum cornsilk hair in plaits
china-blue eyes, red lips and latex
the perfect doll, with a past
the celluloid unease of her
tried and truly … too touché
while here, in reality
we hedge, we cheat
work our beat
never wanting to compete
sigh softly at our silly feats
and the men
invariably
fell
their tongues aslant
on heat
oh boys
why must you be
so utterly cheap
Photo by Harrison Kugler on Unsplash
clairevetica 