Her moist incisement trickles venom
Onto soiled designer denim
While her breasts enlarge and taughten
Under nipple-darkened cotton
And her panther ass tattoo
Bulges lewdly into view
Where her fashion-shrunken pants
Betray its murderous advance.
Her killing ground: a concrete floor
Lined with shops. Intent on more
She prowls. Eight thousand miles below
Lies a swamp of indigo
Stars. Encased in warm cement
Her feet take root. An increment
Of planetary influence
Blooms in her flesh like God’s incense.
11/30/2013
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