My smoky-eyed, blindsided lullaby
Preserving your dreams in cyanide.
What now, do thy demons stalk?
I don't think it will take too long.
My streetwise, glamorized
Pretty girl and landslide
Living your life as a suicide.
You're the daughter that shocks.
What's in your Pandora's box?
Black bra, pantyhose, and Absolut alcohol
Why not go tit-for-tat in an all-out brawl?
Because your friends know there’s a difference
Between blacking-out and tipsy
The apocalypse, my deep-fried fish and turning fifty.
And one other night we should catch a movie
Walking hand in hand in your sublime beauty
And learn the gentle pleasure
Of your sins.
Oh, I want to know
The pleasures of
This poem and more found here: HERE in “A Cartographer,” by Antonio J. Hopson.