painted eyes
Published in
1 min readNov 6, 2016
she was never afraid, but you trusted her face
she was never demur, with that pocketed ace
she was never a daughter of what seeemed to be grace
she was always a trap wrapped so gently in lace
she came with her need, but her crush was her heart
you were never a land she would sadly depart
her mouth was saliva, was blood, it was hunger
in short, she’s no flower, but a ravished war-monger