I will never be
the girl who keeps
a sharp tongue
locked behind smirking red lips,
her canines ready to pierce
the throbbing hearts
of sweat drenched men.
swirl their blood
around her mouth
like cheap shiraz,
a goddess
would never swallow
a poor man’s lies.
she tastes
these complicated
and interlaced notes
of desire and desperation
like a true sommelier
of sleazy drunkards and
self purported ‘gentlemen’
different varieties
off the same vines (veins)
never quite good enough
to pair with her tannin-coated heart
