Her pseudo reaction led him astray
A female archetype
Eve in a lovely shade of red
Its color was too ripe
His hands were naive
as they brushed against the peel
Tempted to pluck it off the vine
But it wouldn't accede
Her smile was muddled in weak coffee
The lipstick stained the cup
Like it would his cheek
Ever so coy
Eyelashes like a noose
against his neck
The shiver of raw anticipation
An uncontrollable itch
Flesh between her nails
Flecked with blood and indecisiveness
She was devoid of emotion
And he was the prototype for exploitation
(Editor's commentary: Politics is everywhere, on the tube, in the papers, in the air, and on the minds of poets. We will always have death, taxes, and politics, but not always poems as powerful as the one above! Congratulations Jordan!)
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