She never seemed to be without a man, feasting on the collars
and earlobes of the well-dressed and wealthy who tried to conquer her.
She wrapped them around her finger, a fresh mani festively playing
across their chests, exploring new territory and terrors every moment as
She sailed forward, a breezy sashay and certainty that only the fearless
-- only those who embrace Manifest Destiny -- can understand.
She wrote her manifesto in pink pen, a black book thick with names
and numbers, mapping her life and leaving no trace of love.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
UNCONQUERED
Labels:
conquered,
manifesto,
poetry prompt,
scribbles
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