A poem about pushing emotion and feelings aside to make way for some no strings attatched fun.
Silver fanged I smirk,
snarl
at the bride’s breath as it runs
from my stoppered lungs
in soured rasps of foul mouthed
male monopoly.
A serpentine wig, I don it
with gleeful mal intent
I keep it close -
as to look in the mirror
when summer comes to the frozen
heart.
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