A woman among girls

Don’t you dare
I have to write on my hand

Don’t coat yourself in glitter
Put tassels on your tits
And blow spit kisses

Don’t pick up that last piece
Of scrap paper
And write love notes
to your neighbors

The party on the thirteenth floor
Is really just a bunch of
stoned flogged heads on sticks
And they’re chanting
To Jones
the boss of the oracle

The one that predicted
I shouldn’t buy
do-it yourself silicone implants
from China

But couldn’t tell me
I was a woman among girls
A sea foam orator of purple nipples
And stretchy thong strings

The throne master
The whip stripper
The pretty girl in the champagne glass
Not the one in pink
In red, ladies and gents

I’m not dancing
On ropes
In ballet slippers
and wrapped in shrapnel
To get away from the Tigers
I’m romancing them
So don’t worry about me


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