I hope it kills you before the butcher
Can sever your blackened throat. Deter
The hate of yourself with another cig
And pollute the air with senséless speak
While your chapped gums excrete your one virtue.
Take another tote and douse your taboo,
Your second heart now lost in sands of weak.
A squalid climb, rising ever higher
Up to your apartment. You shed dank dress
And dreary garment, release smoky mess
And a sigh like an untunéd lyre.
Slip into the shower, regain esteem.
Wash that ash off your breasts slim Virginia,
Clear the treason, transform to the pin-up
We (all) desire. The pure, cleansing steam
Covers supple body in benign shroud.
Beauty left, inhibitions plucked gently
from your lips 'til three words I utter thee.
Beckoned, you emerge clad in heaven's cloud.
Your true self reflected in the mirror–
until decay, the image I desire.
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