I am smitten with the whore.
Who doesn't care, I feel tricked.
Memories of gentle words before
she told me - well hand-picked
by the bar. I blame bright lights, booze,
that Greek girl's cleavage. Each word's
unspoken ::sigh:: : a luxury cruise,
a croon of daisies in my hand. And lures
unbroken dreams, a kiss that's light.
So I just fuck her, out of spite.
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