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Strawberry
Streaks of rain, made
harsher in the flashes of industrialized
electric lights, only to heighten
the contrast of your vulnerability.
Hints of falseness can be
traced in your tears, embittering
the rain drops with your intoxicant salt.
You always knew just how to smile
to hide your saffron stained
teeth, make-up lined just under
your eyes, and a touch of rose
blush to further disguise.
Cloaked in fancy silks beguile
the passerby, perhaps to catch
the right eye to lead down those
winding streets.
Where the truth should be reviled
in all its unglamorous realization,
among the grime and scars,
infections yet unseen.
But how little it means now,
that they have you against the
wall, and when it is over, another
fix slipped in your palm.
To get you through the night
until once again you are found
standing in the spot light at just
the right angle.
9:03 PM - 10/23/2006 -
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