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