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What a Man MAG
Your thin lips
curled at the ends
Telling me you lied about the
“No more than a movie”
night
I caught myself staring
At that stupid thing
You call a mustache
The handful of overrated hairs
on your upper lip
Refusing to shave them
You've only encouraged their stay
Beads of objective
Grew from the dimples in
your skin
Your thick eyebrows
Arched
Acting as though they knew nothing
of the lips' intent
Your restless legs
Snitched on your thoughts as
you shifted in your seat
“It's okay”
My thin bangs whispered back
I'll be damned if I let your
Chapped reddened lips
Touch the soft surface
Of mine
I'll be damned if I let your grease-filled
Mechanic's knuckles
Invade the waves in my hair
And I'll be damned if
My taste buds are soiled
By your
Heinous chew
In response to your face's entrance
to my side of the vehicle
I introduced you to my
Left cheek
I hope you enjoyed the three
Carefully picked eye shadows
I applied for blush
And the grand view of my silver earrings
Placed perfectly
in my ear
Maybe you got lucky
As I turned my head
to smell the scent of black amethyst
As my neck was made exposed
Enjoy, stupid boy
Enjoy
But before I leave, let me
Reiterate
This was no
Shy
Accident
Hopefully your nose stung
With embarrassment
As I smiled and slammed the passenger door
To your feeble excuse
For a truck
As my hair waved good-bye
Maybe you answered a reply to
my mind's only question
Who flaunts
a Ford?
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