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Poetry

In The Bedroom

Love like a shiny plastic machine,
a dream of power.
Manipulation extreme.
An automan for madam.

The wetness of the lips
and scented hair.
The embrace of mutual loneliness.
Hollow holiness.

Small talk on queue, the seen hook.
Eyelashes black.
Lip gloss clear.
Drawn again brows.
Even the silk ruffle
drowns out sincerity here
but it doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter one bit.