I can't feel her today.
I know she's there,
The lights are on,
Her lime green 200 Duke
Still locked inside.
She doesn't feel like coming
Out she rarely does
In her own words: “It's
Not shyness purr-say,
Just preservation.”
I can picture her,
Sprawled on a lonely bed,
Her hands running over
Her hairy thighs and
Wincing, retreating.
The world doesn't deserve her,
And neither do I,
But one has to wonder how long
A rebel's daughter can
Keep her hands off those
Freshly painted bars and
Show the world
Just how fast
She can go.
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