Soft brunette
Bombshell blonde.
Passing out in heaps of body on your lawn.
I’ll never be her, soft and delicate. Angel hair in orange light.
Pink cheeks and rosy nipples
Soft moans of pleasure.
Too big too clanky too odd.
Too brown.
Brown lips and hips.
Gaping mouths at the horror of a woman I am.
Too tall, too loud.
She’s slim and empty minded, bird brained beauty with porcelain skin.
I am the leftovers,
The picked apart carcass.
She is the feast, the plump pig for roasting.
Red apple in the mouth,
Red cherry lips on her doll like head.
Big hairy legs on my awkward frame.
I will always watch a spotlight follow her,
And I her shadow,
Galloping with her.