britny (see_you_around) wrote in __amatory_verse,

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She walked the streets of New York.

From square to square of concrete, her mind

Wanders with her. My mother wasn't

Expecting, for the first time

To look up and see

The man himself.


She said, "Excuse me, Mr. Trump,

I thought you should know

You are the reason I am alive. You open my

Eyes to reality and my

Heart to love. I survive

On a diet of gossip

About you."


With a strange look, he turned away, but she

Continued. "Well, my heart consumes

Your life

And my eyes only see

What they want to.

Except, when you're around,

I see 3 dimensions

Instead of my usual 1.


I may not be your cup of tea and

You may not be listening to me

But how do you know you've lost if

You claimed defeat

From the minute you began?"


Of course, she was being blunt.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes gleaming

With the hope of a child

On the night before Christmas. You see,

She is married but

My father bowls on Fridays.

So this is accepted

As a compromise.


She never claims defeat.

Even as he was nearly a block away,

She followed in her bootleg jeans,

Her purse flailed about her as she ran

And onlookers gawked

At her shamelessness.


"I will give you a keychain

As a token of my love

For the hair that allows me

To enter a world

With fullfillment and lust.

You have the pout of a model and

The modesty of a millionaire and

I think I fell

In love

With that."

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