Her skin was perfect… pristine.
I imagined her having sex.
Perfect and perfunctory..
Boring.
There would be no wobble.
No bounce.
She would be loud from the throat but not the gut.
Did she sweat I wondered?
Probably not.
She sipped on water and chewed on lettuce.
How sad I thought.
Poor rabbit.
I turned away to gaze at the ducks.
Calm on the surface.
She seemed stagnant to the core.
A child tripped over, sprawled on the floor.
Miss perfect’s lips turned up at the edges.
A splendid,slow sneer,slithered across her face.
I saw malice in those cerulean blues
And felt a chill in my blood.
And pity.So much pity
For a world that trusts perfection.
(c) Slumpless
i’ve been thoroughly enjoying reading your poetry, I love it! This one especially, I loved the images you created and the entire feel of the poem.
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Thank you so much for the feedback I appreciate it ☺x
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