You said I had you at my
smoky eyes
but by then my gifted hand
by rote
had already welcomed you
into my lipsuck.

And all of the sudden
I’m the girl who can’t speak a word,
‘twas dressed to the nines
now only wearing shoes and jewelry.

I wonder how I got this way:
heart on a chain, cockfeast craving.

I’m about to ask your approval when
you squelch my next words with hot amazement.

*

Misty Rampart’s poetry has been published in Sister Ignition, Bareback Magazine and Featherlit. She edits Pink Litter at www.pinklitter.blogspot.com