he is the kind that will make pretty babies
and ugly tears
a hulking super man
who still longs for his mama's breasts
after a day of misadventures in manhood
his smile crawls inside spaces that it shouldn't
scurrying inside the empty spaces
between thoughts and dreams
late at night
when I don't want to be bothered
he is
unrepentantly popular
even
in the most unflattering light
like an undone cookie
smelling rich
but tasting poor
and yet,
despite my better judgement
I fight myself from tasting the batter
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