poetry
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public space

illustration by conrad roset

illustration by conrad roset

don’t talk to me about pretty eyes
you don’t know nothing about my eyes
with your words like a lawnmower in
early morning before i’m ready to wake up

bringing me out of myself making me
too aware more scared than i should be
more scared than i was just a minute ago
when i was safe and you were a stranger

who posed no threat
now you want to get something
you think me in flip flops and
unwashed hair left my house

so your mouth could talk to me
about pretty eyes
so your mouth could talk to me
about how i should smile

so your mouth
could say more than any woman wants

This entry was posted in: poetry

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