Pierre Magnol

She likes her boys

tall,

curly haired,

and devoid of love,

and she says "I'm glad I came,"

before she leaves them behind.

She's got a boy for every occasion,

one to sing,

one to write,

their passions don't matter,

as long as they last the night.

 

She never tells me about the others,

she acts like they don't exist, but

she leaves them where she lies in

my bed,

my mouth,

my head.

 

That's okay,

I've learned to act too, and

I act like my

heart,

mind,

balls,

aren't blue.

 

she never lets her boys finish,

she comes, and

she leaves when she's through.

 

https://old.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/92rlzs/best_friend/e3821j6/ https://old.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/92oz1n/meditating_by_the_street_lights/e3828nh/