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Diabolical Women of the Streets


flesh descending:
a hollow skin that’s
and pale.

her hair was burned black by
a crimson moon
as she grabbed me under
a street lamp.


she shocked my every move.
sweaty skin burning my sweaty eyes


I tasted her smell
as she waved and waved goodbye.
crucified onthe intercourse machine.

She lay on a blanket
we were under a black moon that was
hanging in a blank sky.

“travel alone”
she whispered.
she left

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