Human Touch

Human touch- a casualty,
Shed like snake skin, forgotten like me.

Bodies strewn along the line,
Dropping like flies and tired like mine.

Trading parts; love's going rate,
Gambling souls like claims to stake.

Tires mark translucent skin, decomposed and back again.

Still I'll paint you all things pure
And youll see past my work once more.

And when you do, I'll make it new.
You'll sell it like I'm sold on you.

Like moths to flames you cling to me,
I latch on and you break free.

Little girls on black tops dealing
lanky limbs for woman curves,
Coming of age for a rainy day
And swapping his for hers.

Human touch- a casualty,
No fair trade by any means.
Femininity under the age old attack
So now, with me, I take it back.

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