Purple Crush

Imperfect legs in velvet night
she turns her body to the light
and sickly sweetly smiles.

A nailvarnished statuette
she wears her lipstick to forget
the kisses of the past.

Her sugared heart is bittersweet
dancing to the uncomfortable beat
of someone else's dreams.

Her fingers cling to dying stars
trailing sleeves through empty bars
the sound of dragging heels.

The mirror shows the tearless cold
of dry-iced eyes and days grown old
she stares into my face.

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