Orange Juice

I never did find that love
that everyone whined about.
But I did find you,
and your serpent mouth
licking your own legs,
clinging tightly
to a rather sour smile
like a sick kid
reciting his last
8 am prayer
just before wiping
away the orange juice
from his damned skin.
I thought it was too late for poetry,
until I saw it bleeding from you,
looking like what's left of royalty
after some fruitless revolution.

Go to bed now woman,
you're making us all dizzy,
making addicts out of
star football players,
spending the quiet moments
sweating virtue out
like a fever.

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