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If you go to sleep with dragons
Do they get under your skin like she does?
That girl
Who is all scales
And pricking claws
Weeping black mascara
And reapplying her lipstick in the bathroom
As soon as you’ve kissed it off.
The prettiest nightmare
But you wouldn’t know it
Because you never remember your dreams.
She’s green with jealousy
And empty conversations
But you see how she tends to suicide
When she’s had one too many drinks
It’s the best way of getting your attention
And she’s a whore for that
Though not for you
Those modest button-ups
And pearl earrings
But this girl is no Vermeer
Spouting little tongues of flame
As she lights up
A guttermouth with her head in clouds of smoke
You’ll burn your fingers if you get too close
And you always do
Because you’re a masochist under all that machismo.
And when, out of sheer exhaustion,
Stumbling in the trenches of that lovefare
You’ve discovered a replacement
Who’s altogether more appropriate
To bring home to your mother
You’ll wake up on placid sheets
Aching for those love bites
Wondering who she’s fighting with now
And why nothing gets under your skin anymore.
© 2016 Anne Yumi Kobori