Smile, Sweetheart By Faith Muñoz Looks staring behind her Sitting dead ripe in October Her force of desire pulls Lust laced slants to examine Polished and clean Wax wine-colored lips Factory-fresh figure Woman’s body wholly at fault Her screams split soundproof booths The swell of her breathing Morbidly inward Barbwired diaphragm “Give us a smile, sweetheart” She would not succumb Why not her?
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